


Heat of the Moment

by TheScholarlyStrumpet (equipoise)



Series: Tumblr Follower Celebration Prompt-a-thon [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Prompt Fic, Rumbelle - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-04-06 21:57:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 45,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4238040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equipoise/pseuds/TheScholarlyStrumpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was bad enough that she was only 18 and still in high school, but getting his son's best friend pregnant from one night of passion was never supposed to be in the cards. Mr. Gold wants to do the right thing, even if he's not very good at it. He surprises them both by falling in love along the way. </p><p>(Now Complete!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Secrets That We Keep

                                                                    

 

The door swung open and Neal tilted his head curiously at his best friend of the last 8 years. “Hey Bluebelle… wasn’t expecting you tonight. What’s up?”

Belle opened her mouth and then shut it quickly. “Um, is your dad home?”

Neal shook his head. “Nah, still at the shop. He’s consulting on some case from out of town, or something.” His brow furrowed. “Did you need law advice or something?”

“No! No, nothing like that… I, um… can I come in?”

“Oh yeah, of course. God, I’m rude…” He opened the door fully and stepped to the side. Belle walked in but stopped uncertainly in the foyer. He led her to the front parlour and she collapsed heavily on the couch. “Can I get you a drink? Dad has beer...”

She shook her head, her mouth forming a thin line. “I hope you’re joking… I thought you’d be grounded forever after last time.”

Neal gave a crooked grin and shrugged. “Eh, it was so completely worth it.”

He had been grounded for almost a month after the homecoming after-party, but hadn’t minded in the slightest. He had tied to keep things contained but once someone had opened his father’s liquor cabinet, well, he figured in for a penny, in for a pound.

Ok, so the party might have gotten a little out of hand… Kathryn had gotten into a screaming match with Mary Margaret and Will had ended up throwing up in Granny’s bushes. Belle had… Belle had disappeared, actually. Although he had gotten the sense she’d had a good night, if the goofy grin on her face the next day was any indication. As for himself, Neal had finally gotten to kiss Emma Swan, that night.

Three weeks of being grounded had barely even fazed him. In the month since his grounding ended, he had spent at least three nights per week out with Emma. She was having a girl’s night with Mary Margaret and Ruby, tonight. So, he’s decided to stay in and watch old movies.

He settled on the sofa next to Belle. In this light he could see her eyes were red-rimmed, as though she had been crying. “Hey, Bluebelle… what’s wrong?

Belle swallowed, looking away. Her eyes fell automatically on a particular part of the carpet. She rubbed her hands unconsciously over her knees. She could practically still feel the carpet burns there.

Belle remembered the night of the graduation party, too. Only a little bit differently.

She hadn’t realized the drink someone pressed into her hands was quite that strong. She had stumbled into the front parlor for a little peace and quiet. Most of the paty was in the kitchen and spilling out into the backyard. The pounding music at the back of the house was starting to make her head throb.

From that vantage point, she had been the very first person to see Mr. Gold come home. She’d known him most of her life and had been half in love with him for as long as she could remember. She had considered it a hopeless crush but in the last year, she had noticed his eyes on her more than once. The summer pool party where she debuted her newest bikini confirmed her suspicion. She was one of three girls in attendance, but Gold barely glanced at the other two. Dressed in slacks and a button down shirt, he wouldn’t get in the water with them. Instead, he spent the entire day with a newspaper draped over his lap, his eyes practically burning a hole in her backside.

With a boost from her little liquid courage, Belle approached him, swinging her hips.

Gold was supposed to have been out of town for a business trip. He had given Neal permission to have a ‘few friends’ over. Belle was there when they talked it over. At some point, a small party among close friends had extended into a free-for-all with almost every kid in their graduating class. She even thought she’d seen a few Juniors traipsing around.

He looked at her accusingly. “Belle! What the hell is going on in my house?”

She bit her bottom lip, hoping that looked seductive. “Oh this? I guess things got a little… out of hand… but I promise we’ll clean it up tomorrow.” She slid both hands up the lapels of his jacket, moving in close enough to smell his aftershave. He smelled of cloves and spice. She was instantly addicted. “I’m glad you’re here. I was beginning to think I’d never find any decent company at this party…”

Mr. Gold looked taken aback. The hand not holding his cane fluttered up and then back down at his side, as though unsure whether to push her away or pull her closer. “Belle, have you been drinking?”

She shrugged. “Only a little bit of punch. I’m not drunk or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m worried about a great deal of things.”

In her high heels, Belle’s face was nearly level with his. She leaned in, could feel the exhale of his breath across her face. From the smell of it, she was not the only one who had been drinking. “Perhaps you just need to find a better way to unwind…” she suggested.

His jaw worked. “Belle,” he breathed. His hand came to rest on the curve of her hip, fingers indenting the soft flesh there. “Belle… this can’t… I…”

She pressed her body fully against him. “Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll stop right now…”

He hadn’t. So, she didn’t.

They hadn’t spoken since that night. Whenever she sought him out, he found an excuse not to be alone with her. Perhaps he was embarrassed or felt he had taken advantage of her. Perhaps he felt nothing for her at all but couldn’t resist the pull of an easy lay. He didn’t seem the type, but how could she know if he wouldn’t even talk to her about it?

“Bluebelle?” Neal’s voice shook her from her reverie.

“Sorry…. Away with the fairies…” Belle ducked her head so he wouldn’t see the fresh tears that had sprung to her eyes.

He noticed them anyway. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close until she had sobbed herself dry for the second time that day. When she could catch her breath at last, she sighed. Neal was her best friend and if only for that reason, she wanted to be able to talk to him about this.

“Neal…” She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

 

***

By the time his father got home, Belle had long gone. Neal was back in front of the TV, not really paying attention to a thing on the screen. He was trying to stay calm, but inside he was freaking the fuck out.

His best friend was pregnant. Not only that but she was just barely 18 and they hadn’t finished high school. They would be graduating this year and there wasn’t a doubt in  anyone’s mind that Belle would be valedictorian. He wondered briefly how much she would be showing by the time she gave her speech. He realized that he really didn’t know that much about pregnancy – besides the cause, of course. Health class had not prepared him for the reality of a person he loved carrying a new life she didn’t intend to create.

The first thing he asked had been about the father. In retrospect, that had been a mistake because it almost led to another crying jag. The only intel he’d been able to gather was that she wasn’t going to name a name and that they were not currently on speaking terms.

He was still trying to wrap his brain around this new information when he heard his father’s key in the door.

_Oh thank God._ Someone who actually _knew_ something about life and the reproductive cycle. He practically ran to the foyer.

“Poppa? Can I talk to you?”

“Of course, Neal. You can always talk to me. Do you mind if I step inside and take off my coat first, though?” Thaddeus Gold had had a long day and the last thing he needed was another plea from his son about how cool it would be to get a motorcycle for graduation. He had hoped the threat of losing access to the car would put a kibosh on the subject, but no such luck. The catalogues being left in his office and on the dining room table were about as subtle as Neal got. 

“Ok, thanks. This is, um… it’s really important,” Neal’s hands twisted in front of him.

So perhaps this was about more than some deathtrap with two wheels and a souped-up engine. Well now Neal really had his attention. “Alright, let’s go sit down and I am all ears for you, lad.”

They settled on the sofa in the parlour (incidentally into the same exact places Neal had been sitting with Belle less than an hour ago). Neal chewed on his thumbnail, not exactly sure how to start. He and Pop had done the ‘birds and the bees’ talk ages ago. But besides the occasional chat about a girl Neal liked and the box of condoms that had mysteriously appeared in his nightstand, sex was not a topic often breached in this house.

“Ok, so don’t freak out or anything but, um, one of my friends told me that she’s pregnant.”

Thaddeus blinked at his son, his heart suddenly ready to stop at any moment. “Oh God. Is it… you’re not telling me I’m to be a grandfather, are you?”

Neal’s eye flew wide. “No! Oh man, no. Not at all. I mean Belle and I aren’t like that. I mean, I sorta thought about it a few years ago but you know…”

“Belle?” Does the father know?” Thaddeus felt the world going bright and dark by turns. His mind was racing.

Neal winced at the accidental revelation of her name and shook his head again. “Doubt it. She said they aren’t speaking. She said it happened about a month and a half ago, which means it was probably at the… um….” Neal broke off that train of thought with a grimace. The last thing he wanted to do was remind Pop of that debacle.

“The party.” Thaddeus’ voice was a hoarse whisper. This was it. His heart was definitely going to stop. 

Thaddeus Gold had loved little Belle French for years because she was sweet and kind and practically family.  And then she had gone away one summer to stay with relatives in Australia. When she returned, the awkward skinny bookworm with braces on her teeth had been transformed. In her place stood a confidant, radiant young woman with modest curves that struck a chord in all the right _(wrong!)_ places for Thaddeus. He had barely been able to keep his eyes off of her. He’d lost count of how many times, after a day spent with her, he’d ended up fisting his rigid cock in the shower, cursing himself for a pervert.

And then there had been that damnable party. He’d had more than a nip or two on the plane ride home and taken a cab from the airport. Perhaps he should have let his son know he’d be home early. But the disciplinarian in him wanted to see if Neal would abuse the privilege of being allowed to have friends over. Thaddeus had been semi-drunk and fully livid as he made his way into his house. The place was trashed. There was loud music pumping from his backyard and the shouts of teenagers – drunk on _his_ liquor, no doubt.

But then there had been Belle. Belle in that sweet, strapless dress that hugged her body like a lover and left little to his imagination. Belle who had told him she wasn’t drunk, that she wanted to help him... _what was the word she used?_ Oh yes, _unwind_. Belle, who had straddled him on the carpet - right over there, in fact - and ridden him as though the world was ending. And perhaps it was. Had he seen four horsemen on the way home?

“Birth control,” Thaddeus blurted out.

“What?” Neal looked at him strangely.

“Belle’s a… a sensible girl. Surely she was, um, on…” _The Pill. She’d said she was on The Pill._ He remembered at least that. Otherwise, he’d had stolen a condom from the stash he’d bought Neal.

“Oh yeah, that. Apparently, it’s only like, 98% effective. Which is kinda crazy if you think about how many people probably rely on that. I mean, why take that 2% chance? Right? Use a rubber. See, Dad? I’ve already learned a lesson from all this.” Neal laughed nervously.

“Right,” Thaddeus agreed absentmindedly. He needed to talk to Belle. He’d been avoiding her since the day after the party. He had seen her that morning at Granny’s nursing a coffee and decided to come over and join her. Before he had the chance, Jefferson Madden slipped into the seat beside her and kissed her cheek. She had wrapped her arms around the young man and hugged him with a look of sheer joy. It had made his stomach turn to the point where he canceled his order of pancakes. Whatever she had going on with Madden, Thaddeus had obviously been no more than a diversion, a passing fancy, a thrill to seek.

He had stormed out of the Diner and hadn’t wanted to see or speak to Belle since then.

Now… he had to at least know. If there was a chance the baby was his (and with that timeline and the fact they hadn’t used a condom, there was a very good chance), he would do right by it. She was a high school student with working class father. The baby would need someone to provide for it, so Belle could still afford to go to college. And there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Belle must go to college. She was far too bright to be extinguished by this one dalliance.

Belle might never be his again, but he would be damned if he saw a child of his go without.


	2. Hiding in Plain Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted:  
> Rumbelle, their love is forbidden (you can make up the reason), they risk sex in a semi-public place and almost get caught.

He felt like a bloody stalker.

Two days of watching Belle French from afar, trying to find an opportunity to get her alone, had proved fruitless. And on top of that, he was almost certain Granny Lucas was onto him.

The older woman dropped a cup of tea in front of him with a clatter.

Thaddeus pressed back into the booth to avoid sloshed liquid. “Christ, woman! No wonder no one comes here for the service.”

“Yeah, well they don’t come here for dinner and a show, either. You’re a paying customer and you haven’t done anything wrong… yet. But don’t think I haven’t seen you watching the girls over there.” Granny jerked her head in the direction of Belle’s table.

Belle sat with three other girls he recognized from Neal’s class. Two blondes and a redhead. If he was the sort of man to regularly seek out youthful feminine flesh, he recognized it would be quite a smorgasbord. As it was, he only had eyes for Belle. Somehow he didn’t think that fact would redeem him with Mrs. Lucas.

“My son happens to be dating one of those girls,” he replied glibly, as though that would serve as explanation.

“Oh yeah? Which one?”

_Granny did like her gossip, didn’t she?_

“Emma.” The name was easy. Luckily, Granny didn’t ask him which of the not-Belle teens happened to be this Emma. He was relatively certain it was one of the blondes. But Emma had not been a factor in Neal’s life long enough for them to be properly acquainted.  

Granny pursed her lips and then let out a dry laugh. “In that case I can see why you’d need to keep an eye out. She’s a wily one, that girl. Not as bad as my Ruby, of course. But your boy’s gonna have his hands full.” She fixed him with her patented glare. “Just so long as you keep your hands off, Mr. Gold.”

He gave her a long-suffering look and plopped down change for the cup of tea he had no intention of drinking.

Granny grabbed the cash and ambled away, muttering something about Gold’s questionable moral compass.

_Oh, if only she knew._

Belle rose from the booth and bid her friends farewell. She hadn’t been able to tell them, yet. Ariel was one of her closest friends, aside from Neal, but she had a big mouth. Ashley was sweet but not good in a crisis. And Emma… well Emma had only just moved to town. She enjoyed the tall blonde’s company but they weren’t exactly besties.

It was a lonely burden she was carrying. And it was only going to get heavier. There was a light drizzle outside and she pulled the collar of her jacket closer. It was a dank and chilly day out.

Suddenly, a shadow appeared above her. An umbrella. Held aloft by none other than the man whose company she simultaneously most dreaded and craved. She swallowed as he fell into pace with her, his cane clicking on the sidewalk in time with their steps.

“Mr. Gold,” she tried to greet him as though her pulse were not leaping.

“Belle.” Now that he had finally found an excuse to speak with her, he found himself at a loss for words. What does one say to the barely legal girl who might now be carrying a love child that resulted from a drunken shag on the parlor floor? 

“May I walk with you?”  _Smooth start, old man._

“It’s a free country. You may do as you wish.”

_Don’t give him any leeway, Belle. He doesn’t deserve it. He screws you silly and then pretends you don’t exist for over a month? Now he wants a chat? Casual as you please? Forget that._

He moved closer to her side, heat radiating from him. Even in the rain, she could smell his cologne. It made her mouth water and her knees weak. Her hormones had been bouncing off the walls all week. One moment, she was repulsed by everything, the next she had to bring herself off three times before being able to go to sleep a night. This close to Mr. Gold, she could already feel her self control start to unravel.  _Not a good start_.

“I need a word with you.” His voice was low, secretive.

Belle’s stomach clenched. Neal must have said something. And why wouldn’t he? They were all still children, really, just playing at being adults. When faced with a real life problem, who wouldn’t go running to their father?

Well, Belle wouldn’t but that was another story. Moe French was not easily forgiving. He’d have insisted on knowing the name of the father and then all Hell might’ve broken loose.

“By my count, you’ve had at least a dozen words, so far, Mr. Gold. Did you need more?” She snapped, irritable over both Neal’s broken confidence and the effect or Mr. Gold’s nearness. She was afraid to even look at him – who knew if he might see the hunger in her eyes? She didn’t want to be that pathetic girl, crawling after a man who had only wanted her for a one night stand.

Thaddeus glanced twice around them, ascertaining the emptiness of the street. He took hold of Belle’s arm and pulled her into the space between two buildings. One was abandoned and the other not open yet. Gold knew this because he owned both. There was an awning that provided some coverage from the rain and they were off the main road, so it was unlikely they would be seen talking.

“Belle, I need to know if the baby is mine.”

Belle’s mouth fell open as she blinked up at him. Then she slapped him. Hard.

“How dare you ask me that question? And with no preamble… no asking how I am or even how my day has been. It’s been shit, by the way. Not that you care.” She grit the words out in a whisper, in case someone was nearby could hear.

“Of course, I care! I’ve been trying to talk to you for days now, but you keep dodging me!”

“Really? How does it feel?” She thought she’d seen him hanging around lately, but she hadn’t known he was trying to talk to her. She’d likely have ignored him just the same. A taste of his own medicine. “How does it feel to seek someone out, thinking you’d be important enough to at least have a conversation and yet be repeatedly spurned? Someone who ignores every attempt you make at contact? Did that hurt your feelings, Mr. Gold? Did that make you feel worthless or used at all? Did it?”

His throat worked as he looked away and dropped his umbrella. His shoulders slumped. “Is that… Did  _I_  make you feel that way, Belle? Or are you talking about your boyfriend?” 

Belle’s eyes flew wide. “Boyfriend?” she repeated.

“The tall one. Wears those ridiculous hats.” 

Belle’s eyes went even wider. “Oh. My. God. You think Jefferson is my boyfriend? And so, what… without even asking me if it was true, you went about pretending nothing happened between us? For the sake of this relationship you assumed I had based on… what, exactly?”

Thaddeus was stunned. “I always see the two of you about town. That morning… the way you looked at him…”

“What morning? What are you talking about?”

“I saw you together at the diner. The day after the party. You smiled him as though…” his voice trailed off, swallowed up by uncertainty.

“As though I’d just had the best night of my life and was meeting a close friend for breakfast so I could talk about it? Because talking to my actual best friend about it might have been just a teensy bit weird,” Belle pointed out matter-of-factly, as if this entire situation was not just a little bit beyond ‘weird.'  

“The two of you looked so cozy…” Thaddeus faltered, realizing all claim to righteous anger had just flown out the window in the face of Belle’s confession.  _Hold on a tick, had she just said_ … “Did you just say best night of your life?”

Belle flushed beet red. It was bad enough what even his proximity in this small alleyway was doing to her. Now she had to go pile on the embarrassment of her loose tongue. She wanted to shrink into the wall and disappear. She took a step back, away from him. She was fully under the awning now, her back to the solid brick wall that had once been a doorway.

Thaddeus studied her face, his hands busily folding up the umbrella for later. He had never wanted to kiss a woman more in his life. Despite her slap still stinging on his cheek. A kiss would no doubt earn him another such slap. Would be more than worth it, though. Knowing that he had given this incredible beauty such pleasure was doing things to his anatomy that made standing in an enclosed space with her seem like an increasingly bad  _(good?)_  idea.

“So… the baby…?” He tried to pull his focus away from her petal pink lips and back to the reason he had accosted her in the street in the first place.

“It’s a fetus not a baby. That comes much later. But yes, it’s yours. There’s been no one but you. Not since the party. Not for a long time before the party, if it counts for anything.” Her eyes slid away from his, cheeks increasingly hot. In fact, several parts of her were feeling increasingly hot. She took a long, shaky breath. God, she still wanted him. After all this. After what he’d put her through, admittedly without knowing it.

“Belle…” He said her name like a prayer, like a question he desperately needed answered.

She met his eyes again. They were so dark, the pupils blown wide. She felt a flood of wetness between her legs. She gave a small nod and he closed the space between them. She could hear both his cane and the umbrella clattering to the ground as both of his hand came to rest on the wall by each of her shoulders.

He was maddeningly close but still not actually touching her. She was trembling slightly and he needed to know it was with the same need that was surging through his veins. “Tell me,” he began, his voice low and raw. “Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll stop right now….”

The echo of her own words, memories of that night, bittersweet but achingly sharp. Her heart hammered against her ribcage. “Please,” she breathed, not even knowing exactly what she was asking him for.  _Please, touch me! Make me yours again._  Her head was screaming it, but she couldn’t make herself say the words.

He made a frustrated sound at the back of his throat, half growl, half whimper. “Belle, tell me what you want?” He was completely hard already and he hadn’t even touched her. Christ, this girl – this woman – would be the death of him.

She shunted her hips to press into his and he groaned with relief. He leaned in and she thought he would kiss her lips but instead his head fell to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. The round collar of her shirt revealed enough skin there for his lips to find purchase. He planted an open mouthed kiss, tongue flicking over the skin. Her jacket must have fallen open and she hadn’t even noticed. She was cold and his mouth was so warm.

He nibbled up the column of her neck, his tongue soothing each tiny bite. His mouth found her pulse point and she bit her lip to hold back a moan. She could feel him, grinding his hardness against her pubic mound and belly. She wanted him inside her again. It was oh so wrong. They were only half hidden by the buildings with sleepy Main street a stone’s throw away. It would be bustling soon. She couldn’t have cared less, in that moment. If the movements of his hips were any indication, he felt the same.

Her hand fell to his fly, unbuckling and unzipping as his clever mouth make her knees turn to jelly. She found his hard length and wrapped her fingers around him, stroking upward. He gave a broken cry and bit her shoulder through her shirt.

With one hand leaning most of his weight against the wall, he used the other to pull at the hem of her skirt. For the first time on this dreary, rainy day, she was grateful she had worn a dress. His knuckle brushed across the center of her knickers. They were soaked through. His cock gave an answering throb, his blood surging. He slipped two fingers beneath the sodden fabric and stroked her folds. She shuddered against him and widened her stance. He took the invitation and slipped both fingers into her entrance. She muffled a whimper in his neck, biting down on the skin there.

She was as hot and tight as he remembered and he was aching for her. He twisted his fingers within her depths, crooking them to hit that spot he knew would make her splinter. The hand on his cock tightened reflexively, almost painfully so. Her other hand flew up to his shoulder, holding on for dear life as he drove her relentlessly up that peak.

She grabbed her wrist to still him. “Inside me. Need you. Now.”

“We shouldn’t…” he panted, wanting nothing more in the world than to say yes.

“Fuck shouldn’t. Not like I can get any pregnant-er,” She retorted with a twisted half-smile.

He bit back a manic sort of giggle as he withdrew his fingers. In her heels, all she had to do was tilt her hips and they were nearly at the right angle. With his free hand, he hoisted her thigh to hip level and there they were. She pulled aside her underwear; they were ruined by now, anyway. He nudged at her opening and she made a low needy noise.

Keeping eye contact, he slid inside her slowly. Inch by glorious inch, he was encased in her sweet flesh. As he filled her completely, he could have come from her sigh of relief alone.

He was everything she had remembered and more. Her skyrocketing hormones making this joining more essential to her than oxygen. He stilled and Belle rolled her hips impatiently. Who knew how long they could be at this before some poor unsuspecting soul happened upon them. Or before the boutique to his back opened up.

He withdrew almost to the tip and plunged into her once more. Her head fell back against the hard brick and she fought not to cry out. A few more long deep thrusts and she was begging him inarticulately for more. He obliged, pounding steadily into her. She moved her hand to her clit to rub in time with his sharp thrusts and then she was right where she needed to be. Everything was warm sensation and all the rest of the world was completely forgotten in that perfect blissful moment.

Her muscles fluttered and then clenched around him and he was lost, rutting into her like a madman, a feral animal. He spilled himself deep within her, mouthing her shoulder to keep himself quiet.

The stayed enjoined for a few moments, breathing in the scent of their union, stark against the dull muddy scent of the rain. He touched his forehead to hers. “You were right to be angry with me,” he murmured.

“I probably shouldn’t have slapped you,” she conceded.

He softened and slipped out of her, backing away and tucking himself back into place. “No, I deserved that. I should have at least given you a chance to explain. I’ve never been… I’m not a good man, Belle.”

“By whose standards?” she shot back, smoothing down her skirt after having readjusted her underwear.

“All of Storybrooke, I’d wager.” He gave a crooked, humourless grin. “I did just take advantage of a pregnant teenager.”

Belle rolled her eyes. “No one has a say over my sex life but me.”  She placed a hand on his cheek, her thumb running over the weathered skin there. “Besides, Neal doesn’t seem to think you’re half bad. And I’d trust his judgment over most of this provincial little town.”

“He is rather biased,” Thaddeus pointed out, fighting the urge to nuzzle her palm.

Belle shrugged. “So am I.”

Something that felt uncomfortably warm and fuzzy was building up in Thaddeus’ chest. He wanted to take Belle home and repeat the actions of the afternoon but in a proper bed, where he could tend to her needs multiple times before seeing to his own. Instead, he grabbed her hand and held it still, planting a kiss on the middle of her palm.

“May I see you again?”

“The pregnancy hormones won’t always be this pleasant to be around,” Belle demurred, her gaze falling away.

“Not a problem. I’ve been through that once already. I have at least some idea what to expect. I’d like… I’d like to help you, if you’ll let me.” He hesitated.

She withdrew her hand, her lips forming a thin line. “I know you’ve been a good father to Neal but… I don’t know if I’m ready to be a mother, yet, Gold.”

There was a sound of laughter from the street beside them. 

Belle stooped quickly to retrieve his cane and umbrella. She shoved both into his hands. “Look, we can’t just stand around here. I have to go or my father will send out a search party.” She sighed, her hands over his where he was gripping his cane. “I’ll stop by the pawn shop later, ok?” She kissed his cheek and she was gone.

Thaddeus slumped against the brick wall, his bad leg giving him hell and his heart still pumping just a little too fast. The laughing group passed by without taking any notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I researched pregnancy hormones for accuracy. It's not as common, but some women do get extra horny in the first trimester and some are horny throughout. Hmmm, I wonder which Belle will be...


	3. Decisions, decisions

Thaddeus was pacing. His leg hurt like a bitch but he couldn’t sit or even stand still for more than a moment. There was work to be done but he couldn’t seem to focus long enough to make any progress. It was still raining and he hadn’t had a customer all day. Unusual for a Saturday. There had also been no sign of Belle since their unexpected tryst that morning. Quick and dirty with a confusing farewell and her scent still lingering in his nostrils.

Hence, the pacing.

_What had he been thinking! Had he been thinking at all?_ No, that look in her eye had rendered thought nigh unto impossible. But he couldn’t really put this on her. He was technically the adult in this situation, as much as he certainly wasn’t feeling much like one, at the moment. He thought of Neal, looking at him with all confidence that he’d have the answers. His trusting teenage son who hadn’t a clue that his father was a massive fuck-up who went around shagging and impregnating teenage girls. Well, just the one teenage girl. That didn’t really make it exactly kosher.

The bell above the front door jangled and Thaddeus came to an abrupt halt. He was awkwardly positioned, perpendicular to his counter. He realized he probably looked a little ridiculous standing in the middle of his shop for no notable reason.

Luckily, Belle was far too distracted to notice. She had stopped by her father’s shop to help out for a few hours, as she usually did on the weekend. The rain was mostly keeping customers at bay and even Moe, normally not the most observant person, had seen that she was anxious to leave. After he released her from her flower sorting duties, she ran up the stairs to their small apartment. She had been searching online for ages, always erasing her browser history just in case her father suddenly learned how to use a computer competently. She had a spreadsheet of phone numbers and locations. She called each and had a brief conversation with the receptionists. By the end of the afternoon, the list was narrowed to two. One was within an easy distance by bus, but it was not the preferable option.

The other was quite a few miles out of town but offered far more opportunity for care. Perhaps she could get Jefferson to drive her. But then she’d have to tell him why.

Jefferson had begun teaching an AP class in Shakespeare at her high school last year and the two hit it off immediately. He was smart, funny, and had the boldest fashion sense she’d ever seen. They had downplayed their friendship while he taught her, to avoid accusations of favoritism. Now that he was not her teacher, they were openly affectionate with one another. Ruby had once insinuated that Jefferson might expect more than friendship, but Belle knew better. She was the only person in Storybrooke who knew that Jefferson preferred same sex relationships. He had been out at his last school, but Storybrooke was a small, insular town. He didn’t want to take any chances with narrow-mindedness. He told Belle that he just wanted to establish himself as an excellent and reliable teacher, first.

It made perfect sense to her. It also made him a companion to whom she could turn when Neal wouldn’t want to hear about… certain things. Neal knew she had a crush on an older man in town, but she avoided names to keep it from being too awkward. She wanted desperately to be able to talk to him about all of this, but seeing as how it hit so close to home, she was keeping rather mum on the details. Jefferson might be a good alternative. He would keep her secret.

Unfortunately, he was out of town at the moment. His niece, with whom he was very close, lived a few towns over and had a horse riding competition this weekend.

Coming to the decision that she ought to make the appointment sooner rather than later, Belle realized there was only one other place to turn.

Mr. Gold.

The man who had, just this morning, begun to accuse her of sleeping around before eating his words and then fucking her in an alley. There was top-notch father material for you.

She knew she was being unfair to him, but she was still pissed off. Yes, he had raised a remarkable young man in Neal, but that didn’t mean the two of them were fit to be… what? Co-parents? They certainly weren’t together, despite the sex. She was far too young to be tied down like that ( _and now she had to shake the mental image of Gold physically tying her down… fuck these hormones!_ ). She barely knew him outside of the capacity of her best friend’s father. She didn’t even call him by his first name, for goodness sake!

Admittedly, she had liked him for years now and wanted him for as long as she could remember. He could be sarcastic, exacting, and unforgiving – not the sort of man you want to cross. Yet, there was kindness there, too. She knew his offer to help her was genuine and meant in good faith.

She grabbed a raincoat before leaving the apartment, this time, and made her way to Gold’s shop.

When she walked in the door, Gold was standing in the middle of the empty floor space. He looked up at her as though she might be a ghost.

Thaddeus swallowed. “You came.”

“Did that this morning, actually. Now, I’m just here to talk.” Belle joked nervously, hoping to lighten the mood. This talk would be serious enough without Mr. Gold acting like he’d murdered her just by knocking her up.

He blinked at her, mind barely registering the attempt at humour. “I’ll close up and put on some tea.”

“Cheers.” Belle nodded, shedding her raincoat and hanging it on the rack by the door.

Gold crossed to the door and flipped both the sign and the lock before indicating that she follow him to the back room. Belle noted that the back was even more cluttered than the front but almost cozy in its warm tones and well placed furnishings. There was a cot set into one corner and little desk in another. Not sure she wanted to be near anything that reminded them of being horizontal, she hopped up onto the desk and looked at him expectantly.

Thaddeus could barely look at her. Even pale with the cold, her hair matted from the rain, she was stunning. Just so impeccably beautiful. And so bloody young. God what _had_ he been thinking? He busied himself with making tea, hoping she would break the uneasy silence.

No such luck. She sat perched on his antique desk and just looked at him with those big blue eyes. And why shouldn’t she expect him to go first? To take ownership and responsibility here? He was just as culpable for the creation of this… problem. Moreso, really.

He placed a hot teacup in her slender hands. “I just wanted to say… And I hope I’m not being too forward, here – but whatever it is you decide to do, I am at your disposal. If you need me to… cover the costs of… your decision. Whatever it is.”

_Subtle. Not awkward at all._ Why he couldn’t come right out and ask, he wasn’t sure. But how does a man ask his teenage lover if she plans to keep their unintended love-child? There wasn’t much of a conversational template for that in his life experiences, thus far. His married life had fallen spectacularly to shit for other reasons, but at least Neal had been expected. Wanted. A twinge of the past pulled at his heart and he buried it deep, back where it belonged. 

Belle chewed her lip. Gold was a generous man when he wanted to be. But the last thing she wanted was to feel like a charity case. He didn’t owe her anything. Not really. It had been her decision to jump him and he had just been drunk enough to be open to suggestion. Okay, so most people looking at their situation might think he should have been the responsible party and not slept with a teenage girl in the first place. But Belle had always been mature for her age. Precocious, her teachers said. If anyone should take ownership of this mess, it was her.

“I don’t need your money, Mr. Gold.”

Thaddeus winced at her casual formality. As though he was simply offering her a few bucks for pizza. “Please, at least call me something besides Mr. Gold. It seems too….”

"Respectful?" she offered.

Gold’s mouth twisted.“Unfamiliar,” he finished, dryly.  _This was not going well_

“Does anybody even call you ‘Thaddeus’ in this town?”

Belle had learned Gold’s first name years ago. It didn’t really roll off the tongue the way his surname did. Plus, she had never really been given permission to use it. And she was certain there was _some_ kind of irony in that.

“Mayor Mills does occasionally. When she wants a favor.” Thaddeus shrugged.

“That’s not much incentive for me to use it.” Belle intoned, a hint of a smile gracing her lovely mouth.

Thaddeus gave a forlorn chuckle. “I suppose not.”

“But I do feel silly calling you ‘Mr. Gold’ after you’ve been inside me,” Belle continued, conversationally.

Thaddeaus’ stomach clenched, a sudden thrill rushing down his spine and centering at his groin. _Was she doing that on purpose?_ After putting such a clear distance between them, it felt as though she were goading him into crossing that line, once more. Or perhaps he was reading too much into it. She was young. Teenagers liked to test the waters, shock their elders. Neal enjoyed any opportunity to gall him. Oh and wasn’t that just an utterly disheartening parallel.

Belle noticed the flare of heat in Gold’s eyes but chose not to pursue it. She’d already made that mistake once today. Despite the fact she’d have been up for quite a few more rounds, it hardly seemed prudent.

She changed the subject. “Look, I don’t want money or anything but I could use a ride somewhere. It’s not too far but I can’t get there easily by bus and… well, there aren’t too many other people with a car that I can ask.”

Thaddeus swallowed hard. Right. Moment of truth. This was where he showed that he was a liberal, caring, open-minded kind of man. The sort of man who believed a woman had every right to make decisions about her own body. His hands shook and he hid them behind his back. “I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

Belle nodded solemnly. “Great. I can make an appointment for next Saturday. I’ll talk to Dad about getting the day off. It’s been slow enough, right now. We won’t get busy ‘til the poinsettias start coming in.”

Thaddeus cleared his throat, trying to sound both unaffected and compassionate. “What’s the address of the clinic?” He pulled out his mobile to type it into the calendar.

Belle’s mouth fell open. “Clinic?”  Absentmindedly placing the half-full teacup down, she slid off the edge of the desk. “No, wait did you think that…” Unfortunately, she placed the cup too close to the edge and it tipped over just as she was on her feet. A little warm tea splashed her leg and she heard it clatter as it hit the wooden floor.

“Oh!” She squatted down to scoop up the fallen cup. A little piece of the rim had broken off. She frowned and held it up for his inspection. “It’s chipped… I’m really sorry.”

Thaddeus had crossed from the safe distance he’d been keeping to help. He was almost directly above where she had crouched. He shook his head and offered her a hand up. “It’s just a cup.”

When she stood, they were nearly nose to nose. So close she could feel his breath on her face. He smelled of the herbal tea and his spicy cologne. _Why did he always have to smell so good?_ He stood stock still, her hand still in his. She felt herself lean in, her eyes falling closed.

“Belle. You’re not… thinking clearly.” It was a rough whisper, but it felt like a plea for mercy.

She shifted away, opening her eyes. Her cheeks burned from the ostensible rejection. “Probably not. Doesn’t make anything I’m feeling any less real. Or easier to… deal with.” She met his eyes squarely.

Thaddeus nearly shook with the effort of not pulling her to him to devour her mouth. That night at the party had whet his appetite and he had been denying himself ever since. This morning was like a taste of water for a man dying of thirst. He desperately wanted more. But it wasn’t right. And it definitely had no place in this conversation.

He dropped her hand, stepping away quickly and taking up his mobile from the table where he’d left it. “The address?”

“443 Mockingbird Lane. In Drury Park.”

Gold began punching in the letter then paused, his brow furrowing. “I know that address. That’s the… the Mother Goose Adoption agency.” He looked up at her.

“Yeah.” Belle nodded. “Silly name, I know, but good reviews. Very well respected. Kind of impressive you just knew that. And a little bit eerie. How many girls have you driven there, lately?”

From the stricken look on his face, she knew instantly that the joke had been a bad idea.

“I’ve… done some business with them in the past,” he answered vaguely.

“Oh.”

Thaddeus fell into contemplation. He was not overly fond of that agency. They had some ties to the local nunnery and anything to do with the Mother Superior was bad news. He had worked with them a few times but eventually looked elsewhere. The agency side was fine but, if the mother was unwed, that blasted Mother Superior always wanted to intervene and recruit a new sinner to her flock. He doubted that information would have made its way to online reviews. He’d have admired the woman’s subtlety if he hadn’t loathed her so vehemently.

He couldn’t let Belle get drawn into that web. Respectability politics were difficult enough to navigate without a whole arm of the church trying to bat the girl down. Not to mention the fact that he might never get to see his own son or daughter before it was shipped out of town. Now that he knew Belle intended to give birth, he felt a strange possessiveness of the unknown child. Another thought followed that one and his throat tightened, heart thudding heavily in his chest.

He made a quick decision.

“I’ll handle the adoption.”

“What?” Belle openly blanched.

Thaddeus shook his head. “Mother Goose is no good if you want discretion. I have handled this sort of case before and there was a minimum amount of fuss involved. I’m a far better option and I’m much more accessible.”

Belle’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve never heard of you handling an adoption case.”

Gold gave a smug smile. “Exactly. Discretion.”

When he looked like that, she was torn between the dual urges to slap him again or tackle him to the ground and ride him into the floorboards. She settled for crossing her arms over her still-flat belly. “Won’t it be a bit hard to hide when I’m going to be big as a house? Plus, what if I go into labor in class or something? What about me going to the doctor all the time? Someone is bound to notice.”

“Minor impediments. I know a doctor just outside of town who will keep his mouth shut. I will cover all the fees – “ he held up a hand to silence her protests. “It’s what the agency would have done and as my client it will be part of our deal. You may not like your wardrobe choices in a few months but there are ways to make it work.”

Belle giggled, a little manically. “Make it work, huh?”

“What?” He looked confused.

Her eyes shifted to the side. “Nothing. Just this thing that this guy used to say on a show I liked… Just, never mind. Don’t mind me. I’m a little, um, ‘overwhelmed’ doesn’t really even begin to cover it right now.” Unexpected tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. 

Gold's eyes softened and, for the first time in months, Belle remembered the man she initially developed a crush on all those years ago. There was that tenderness, the side that only Neal and those closest to their little family ever saw.

“I know. I only want to help make it easier,” he said gently. Tentatively, he held his arms out to her. Belle hesitated before neediness got the better of her. She folded into them gratefully. He held her close and she could feel the handle of his cane at her back. With his free hand, he stroked her hair. It felt nice, almost like they were a normal couple, not two very different people blindly stumbling through an untenable situation together.

Internally, Thaddeus was feeling like a demon. He was lying to Belle. Only a partial lie, a lie of omission. But it was a lie just the same. And he was the worst sort of man who had ever lived. But he would make it all better, somehow.


	4. Past and Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for mention of child death in this chapter - NOT Belle's.

Belle had always spent a lot of time in either the school library or involved in after school programs. So, it was easy enough to slip away after the bell rang and make her way to Gold’s shop. He gave her a spare key to the back door. No one seemed to notice if he closed early. Gold had always kept erratic hours. Neal was so busy with Emma, these days, he was hardly ever home. It was almost too perfect.

From the back of the shop, they slipped into Mr. Gold’s car and Belle slunk down in the front seat. He drove her to her appointment with a very friendly doctor just outside of town. Dr. Jane Porter was more general practice than obstetrician but she was reliable and knew how to keep a secret.

Belle liked her instantly. That was an expected pleasure. After the chilly silence of her car ride over with Mr. Gold, Dr. Jane was a welcome source of comfort. Despite the fact they were seeing one another quite a bit between the doctor, the contract negotiation, and other preparations, Mr. Gold seemed to be avoiding contact with her, at all costs. It hurt but she couldn’t have said why.

He wasn’t really anything to her, in a conventional sense. He was the father of the child she carried, but the baby wasn’t hers, not really. In her mind, Belle had already placed it with an adoring couple who could not conceive. Both parents came from loving homes, themselves and were involved with the community. At least one, if not both of them would eventually serve on the PTA. They would have steady jobs and good educations and perfect teeth. Belle’s baby would be the cap on their strong, committed marriage. The three of them would build a perfect life, in a big house with a fenced in yard and a dog. And maybe a cat.

Just the mental image made tears spring to Belle’s eyes. The fact that the house was occasionally tinged a familiar shade of pink was something she resolutely refused to take into account. There were lots of houses that color. Somewhere. She was sure of it.

At least as she as she could be of anything. These days, she felt like such a mess. One minute, she was confident with the decision she had made. How could she be a mother, herself, when her own had not been around long enough to even see her grow up? Until the Cancer got so bad they had to move her to the hospice, Belle’s mother, Collette, had still insisted on tucking her in, every night. They read together and sang songs.

But now, Belle found that she couldn’t even remember the words, just snippets of tune. Her father had taken over the day to day duties of raising her, but he didn’t sing. He didn’t read to her.  As her father retreated into himself, Belle had learned, by trial and error, how to take care of life’s necessities, but a child? A helpless little creature who needed every moment of her love and affection? At 18 years old, she was only just learning how to love herself – and frankly, not doing such a stellar job of that, either.

Because she was still hung up on a guy who hadn’t been giving her the time of day, lately. That time in the alley had been one of the best and worst decisions of her life. She still liked him. More than liked him, if she was honest with herself. She liked the way she felt when she was with him, how he had been so respectful of her decision not to keep the baby. She liked that he had offered his help, even as she’d been trying to push him away. That he seemed to genuinely want what was best for her. She liked that he could be as kind as he could be ruthless. And that she could always seem to bring out the former over the latter.

And she liked the way he felt inside of her. _God_ , did she ever like that.

The fact that he looked at her as though he wanted to devour her whole, when he thought she wasn’t looking, did not help. Her skyrocketing hormones only made the whole thing a million times worse.

Belle looked down at her still mostly flat belly, one hand pressing lightly against it. Some part of her idly wondered if Gold would still want her when she was more rotund. When she no longer looked cute in that skimpy little bikini he had favored last summer. Maybe she ought to get her kicks while the getting was good. She felt like laughing. And crying. And riding Thaddeus Gold until her legs went numb. And also eating cake.

Cake was the easy one. Belle slipped off the library chair, determined to spend the rest of her free period in search of something full of sugar and carbs.

***

Besides the hug he had given her after they came to their arrangement, Thaddeus had been meticulously careful not to lay hands on Belle. He couldn’t trust himself around her. She was carrying his child and she looked lovelier with it every day.

When he first met Milah, they had talked about starting a family together. She was working part time in a retail store and hating it. She wanted to be a stay at home mother. He wanted her. It seemed a good match, at the time. They hadn’t known one another very long but Thaddeus was the first to admit he had been a romantic fool. Once upon a time.

When she was carrying Neal, Milah had been radiant. It was, perhaps, the only time in their marriage that Thaddeus had been absolutely certain that she loved him. By her second trimester, she would convince him to stay home from the shop and spend a whole day making love to her. He had never felt closer to another human being in his life.

When Neal was barely six months old, Milah fell pregnant again. It was entirely unplanned this time, but no less wanted. With Neal still to care for, there were no more lazy afternoons in bed. But they were still quite affectionate, in those days. He kissed her before leaving for the day. They left sweet nothings on post-it notes scattered around the house. Milah was a little less hearty this time around, relegated to bed rest by the last trimester. Thaddeus took over the full time care of Neal and the two bonded immediately.

Thaddeus had lived to make his son smile from the moment the wee boy had been placed in his arms. Now, he chattered excitedly about the prospect of Neal having a brother or sister. One of Neal’s first words was “brother” (although he pronounced it a bit more like “bother.”) Thaddeus let his work lapse some as he was needed more at home. Rent went uncollected and more than a few townsfolk were given an unexpected reprieve.

It was on the drive to the Storybrooke hospital that Thaddeus’ happily ever after fell spectacularly to pieces.

Milah began cramping and spotting shortly before her due date. The two ambulances in town were otherwise occupied, already. Thaddeus couldn’t find a babysitter because it was after midnight. So, the whole family was packed into the car on the frozen road to Storybrooke general hospital. It was a short drive, but the roads were slick and several lights were out.

Anyone would have missed that patch of ice at the bottom of the hill.

The car spun out, hitting a telephone pole with the passenger’s side taking the brunt of the force. Years later, Thaddeus could still only recall it in flashes – the squeal of the tires muted by the ice and snow, the crunch of metal and smashing of glass. The feel of his wife’s blood on his hands as he tried to wake her. Neal wailing from the back seat with all the force his tiny lungs could muster.

Nowadays, Thaddeus had a cellular phone in his pocket, always. Then, he had trudged four blocks in the snow, blood-spattered and dazed, to find an available telephone. It wasn’t until he was being admitted to the hospital that he even realized his ankle and calf were practically shattered.

As soon as they set his leg, he demanded to be taken to his wife and child. Neal was brought to him, unharmed (save a few nasty scratches) but shaken up. Milah was still in surgery. When they would not wheel him over fast enough, he walked on the new splint, pain lancing through him but only furthering his determination. A doctor in scrubs greeted him outside of her door.

_We can only save one of them._ The doctor said, her voice sounding tinny and far away.

Only one.

And Thaddeus had to choose.

He remembered his mind spinning. And then the walls spinning. And then the world going black.

There was nothing until he opened his eyes, once more in a hospital bed. In the end, a choice had to be made and Milah was alive. Thaddeus hadn’t spoken the words, hadn’t signed any paperwork. But they couldn’t wait for him to come to and Milah had had a better chance of survival. Those were the odds. Just slightly in favor of the mother.

A stranger had flipped a coin and his daughter was dead before he’d ever even had a chance to meet her.

Once they got home, Thaddeus did what he could to try and pick up the pieces. He hired some help while he convalesced in a wheelchair. He held his son close, trying not to spill tears into the boy’s wavy brown locks. After that there was the physical therapy, a painful humiliation he’d not have wished on his worst enemy. He tried to show his wife that they could be a family once more. But her grief had stolen the light from her eyes and a quiet sort of despair had crept into her bones.

The Milah who used to sing while she made breakfast was a silent, sullen shell of her former self. When she did speak, he could feel the resentment etched into every word. She blamed him. Without her having to say it aloud, he knew. If he had been a better driver. If he hadn’t passed out instead of making a decision, their daughter might have lived. But at what price?

He’d have lost her, either way. 

Some days, he would return home at lunch to find Neal crying quietly over his crayons and Milah still asleep in bed.  Thaddeus took over all aspects of Neal’s care, as he had when Milah was bedridden. He threw himself into what was left of his little family and never looked back. Because the scars on his leg, the damage he had done to it impeding a complete recovery, were never as painful as the scars on his heart. Walking with a cane became a daily reminder that he’d always have gotten it wrong. There was no use in trying to fix the past.

He was a single parent long before Milah left for good.

Thaddeus was fighting back these particular memories, his hand tightening reflexively on the handle of his cane. His heart felt as though the pain was trying to tear its way back out from the high walls he had constructed to shut it in. His jaw was tight; his whole body on edge.

There was a noise from the backroom. It sounded like the door, but this wasn’t one of the days he would meet with Belle. So, she’d have no real reason to be here.

He didn’t want her here. Not now. Not when he was like this.

“Mr. Gold?” she called for him, softly.

Thaddeus tipped his head back, exhaling in a rush. His eyes squeezed shut and then reopened them. “You don’t have an appointment today, Belle.”

She appeared from the behind the curtain to the back room. Her nose and the apples of her cheeks were flushed from the cold wind blowing through town. Her hair was loose and wild, curls cascading down on either side of her face. She was picturesque. Truly lovely.

And he was a terrible, terrible man because the only thing he wanted to do was push her back into the room behind her and bury himself inside her. Weeks of vigilance, of keeping his distance, and he’d only made himself want her more. It was a pantomime of atonement, meaning nothing in the end.

Today, especially, he longed to forget the past that threatened to spill over into his present. Block out memories of tender kisses with the woman who had grown to revile him. Replace them with the feel of Belle’s sweet lips. She’d let him. He knew that from the looks she’d been casting in his direction. But what would that solve? He’d never endeavor to deserve her. And in a few months, she would hate him, too. He supposed there was a certain poetic symmetry in that.

 “M – Thaddeus,” Belle began, confidently, “I was looking online and I found some clothes I thought might be… appropriate in a couple of months. They are roomy but still stylish. Could I have them shipped here? I don’t need my dad seeing the packaging or anything.”

Thaddeus blinked at her. “Yes, of course. You could have called and saved yourself the trip.”

Belle shrugged, her head tilting to one side. “Well, that was only the first part of my request.”

Thaddeus raised an eyebrow. “Getting demanding, already, sweetheart?”

She rolled her eyes and took a step toward him. One hand descended into her coat pocket and pulled out something that she held balled in one fist. “I don’t really know what size to order and I thought maybe you could... help me figure out what the measurements are now and will be later.”

His mouth went dry and Belle closed the distance between them, holding up what he now realized was a tape measure.

“Shop’s still open.” His voice had roughened and dropped a register. He knew what she was implying – or at least he was relatively certain. Some part of him had known it would come to this the moment he gave her that key. It had only been a matter of time and his crumbling self-control.

Belle grabbed Thaddeus’ free hand and put the tape measure in it, her thumb caressing him skin as she did so. With a deliberate look, she walked to the door and locked it, flipping the sign. “Problem solved.”

“Always knew you were clever,” Thaddeus teased, his stomach clenching as heat began to build under his skin.

Belle grinned, her eyes a little too knowing to look quite right in her youthful face. “You don’t know the half of it.” She opened her coat and shed the outer layer, hanging it on the coatstand as she had before. The outfit beneath was simple but effective. A high-waisted dress that presented her blossoming bosom to full advantage and left a significant amount of leg (adorned by woolly over-the-knee socks) on display.

Thaddeus swallowed and held aside the curtain for her without another word.


	5. So Close and yet So Far Away

Belle was desperate to feel someone’s hands on her besides her own. Even if the trust between them was tenuous at best. Even if they might never speak again once the baby was placed with a good home. Even if this meant nothing at all. Thaddeus’ hands were the ones she wanted. His mouth, hot and eager to please, against her skin. She needed to feel him against her body, sliding inside her, before she burst like over-ripe fruit.

Ok, so asking him to ‘take her measurements’ didn’t get points for being the most creative seduction. But Belle knew that he still wanted her. It was in every stolen glance, every time he carefully avoided her touch. It was in the fact that, when they took tea together (as they often had while negotiating the initial contract) he always used the cup that she had accidentally chipped. There was something in that simple gesture that made her heart clench a little. She dismissed it as a silly fancy. But the feeling remained.

Once they had passed through the curtain into the back room, Belle grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him flush against her. He didn’t even hesitate this time. As though he’d read her mind, Thaddeus’ mouth crashed down on hers. Her hands came to his hair, running her fingers through it and tugging lightly at the ends. The hand not holding his cane slid from her lower back to grasp her arse, kneading at it as his tongue stroked hers. Belle hummed her approval, now able to feel his growing hardness against her belly.

She’d stopped wearing heels for the most part so that it would not look so unusual later on. At this height their centers were not so aligned. Belle remembered there was a cot tucked into one corner. She reluctantly broke the kiss to look around for it, then his desk caught her eye.

“Cot or desk?”Thaddeus asked.

Belle looked back up at him, relishing his hungry eyes and tousled hair. “Am I so transparent?”

“When you allow yourself to be.” Thaddeus murmured, leaning down for another kiss.

She nearly blushed. It should have been embarrassing how well he could figure her out. Embarrassment was not what she felt. She quashed that other, unwanted emotion, immediately. This was about sex. And only that. Nothing more than seeing to a basic human need. She inclined her head. “Desk. I may not be flexible enough, later.”

Thaddeus raised one eyebrow. “Already planning to seduce me again, are you?”

Belle’s mouth puckered, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Well, you don’t exactly make it difficult.”

“Would you prefer I play ‘hard to get’?” Thaddeus indicated his cane. “I’m not much of a challenge to chase.”

“And I don’t want to end up waddling after you when I get disproportionately large.” That depressing thought from earlier in the day made an appearance and Belle frowned slightly. “That is, if you’ll want to by that point. I’m sure I won’t be nearly as –“

He silenced her with a finger to her lips. “I can almost assure you I will still… ‘want to,’ Belle.” His hand moved to cup her face.

“That hard up, huh?” She teased, though her heart was suddenly in her throat.

Thaddeus’ eyes flicked away and then back. There was a shadow of sadness in them now. “Only for you.” He answered, simply.

Belle’s brow furrowed. “You haven’t touched me in weeks.”

Thaddeus swallowed and took a step back, both his hands and his gaze dropping. “I shouldn’t be touching you now. I should never have laid a hand on you, Belle. It was never my place and, whether you like to admit it or not, I’ve made a mess of your life. I’m trying my best to clean it up. This,” he indicted the two of them with a gesture, “this should not be happening. But I am a weak man, Belle. I want you so badly that sometimes I can’t think of anything else. That doesn’t make it right. Our ages, the baby, any of it. So, yes, I thought if I kept my distance…”

“That I would take the hint?” Belle crossed her arms, the full weight of his words still sinking in.

Thaddeus squeezed his eyes shut with a pained expression. “I never said it was a _good_ plan.”

Belle shook her head, heaving a sigh. “For a guy who lives and dies by his ability to word a deal, you’re not very good at actually talking about things, are you?”

Thaddeus shrugged, uncertain how else to respond to her assessment (which was entirely fair but also somewhat debilitating to his ego).  She was irritatingly perceptive, his Belle. If he wasn’t careful, she’d suss him out completely and then he’d have nowhere to hide.

(And he needed to remember that she wasn’t _his_ Belle at all. No matter what her hormones might occasionally try to tell him.)

Belle chewed her bottom lip, looking thoughtful. “I do want this. I tried to ignore it, too. Maybe not as hard as you did. But I came to the conclusion that walking around sticky wet and in need of a good hard fuck all the time…” Her words had the intended effect as his softening erection pulsed back to life. Belle glanced at his trousers and grinned, knowingly. “Well, it wasn’t worth sparing my pride. And I suppose I _could_ just ask one of the boys at school…”

Thaddeus looked up in alarm, a possessive anger stabbing through him. His lip curled and he scoffed.

Belle gave him a pointed look. “I _could_ do that. No one’s stopping me.” She swayed closer to him once more, tilting her head up to maintain eye contact. “But I don’t want to. I don’t _want_ the boys at school. I never have.” She reached for his belt buckle.

Thaddeus felt a tug and heard the slid of leather, the clink of the buckle as it fell open. “This isn’t the sort of service I usually provide for clients,” he quipped, uneasily.

“Oh, I think I’m a special case.” She stood on tip-toe to plant an open mouthed kiss on his neck, just above his collar.

Thaddeus’ mouth fell open and he breathed her in. He’d made his case. He’d told her what a bad idea this was. But she was 18 and hormonal, and carrying his child. And she would hate him soon enough, anyway.

He turned them around and backed her up against the desk. She slid back onto the wooden surface and fit him between her legs. His hand fell to her inner thigh, caressing the delicate skin there. It slid upward, as Belle continued to kiss his neck, untying his tie in the process. At the apex of her thighs, he found no barrier, just smooth, slick flesh.

Thaddeus bit back a moan.

She was, indeed, ‘sticky wet’ and hot as all hell. His cock was now painfully hard. Her feet hooked around the backs of his thighs and pulled him closer. Thaddeus leaned his cane against the edge and yanked at the hem of her dress. He tugged it off to reveal only a lacy bra beneath.

“You should start dressing warmer. You could catch a cold in this weather,” he advised, while nuzzling her neck.

Belle pushed his trousers and underwear down with her feet. “And _you_ should definitely stop talking, right now.”

With a hand between them, Belle grasped his cock. The other she placed behind herself to keep her balance on the desk’s edge. She rolled forward to align him with her dripping entrance. The tip just barely slipped past her nether lips and he groaned loudly. He replaced her hand with his, teasing over the hood of her clit with the head of his cock, already slick with her juices. 

Belle whimpered, shunting her hips.

His eyes met hers, his still hips keeping them just on the verge of joining. "Tell me this is what you want, sweetheart," he murmured, keeping her gaze locked with his. He needed more than ever to hear the words, to know he was the only one she wanted. That those boys at school couldn't possibly leave her dripping and wanting like he could. Why it was so very important to know, he didn't care to consider just then. "Tell me," he repeated, nudging once more at her entrance.

“Yes!" Her eyes were wide and dark, dark blue, practically all pupil in the low light. "God, yes... Please?” she breathed.

With a muttered curse, he plunged into her depths. He held her to him with one hand on her arse, hiking her thigh to his waist with the other. This was everything he wanted, everything he'd been denying himself these past weeks. God, she felt too good, the silky heat of her, accepting him, encasing him. He needed this to last. He made an attempt to slow things down but her heels dug in, urging him on, faster and harder. Almost immediately, he was pounding into her and she was stifling her cries with the hand not holding her up.

She was already so close, he pushed her over the edge with just a flick of his thumb to her clit. She pulled him to her by the collar of his half-open shirt and kissed him. It was messy and indelicate, teeth and noses clashing slightly until they readjusted. She bit at his lips and he fucked her all the harder for it. He was nearing his peak but he wanted to bring her with him once more. He returned the hand to her fleshy little nub and rubbed it in time with his thrusts. His other hand grabbed at the flesh of her perfect bottom, nails digging in.

Belle released a string of half-articulated curse words as her inner muscles clenched around him. He followed her over the edge as she milked him.

Thaddeus leaned both hands on the table to keep himself from collapsing. His injured leg was throbbing and his knees felt like jelly. They needed to stop doing this standing up.

Belle’s head came to rest against his shoulder, sweat against sweat. Thaddeus chanced his balance and moved one of his arms to hold her around the middle. She nuzzled his neck. He was swept with the sudden urge to confess everything – his wife and the child they had lost, how guilty and responsible he’d felt (still did), and how he wanted this baby (their baby) as his own. Because he knew that, despite all odds, he’d been given a second chance. He was just gathering his courage, seeking out the right words, when he felt Belle push him away.

She slid off of the desk and out of his grasp. They both dressed in silence, Thaddeus trying to hide his trembling hands by fiddling too long with his tie. Already clothed, Belle adjusted it for him and smoothed a hand down the center of the silk.

“I like this color on you,” she confessed, softly.

Thaddeus chanced a slight smile. “Thank you. It… was a present.”

“From Neal?”

He shook his head. He saw her eyes light with understanding.

“She… had good taste. Your ex-wife,” Belle ventured.

Thaddeus shrugged. “In ties, anyway.”

The bitterness in his tone indicated that further conversation on the topic would not be welcome. They had never once discussed Thaddeus’ past, she realized. Belle had only gotten drabs of it from Neal. Her best friend had grown up as motherless as she. It was one of the things that brought them together at the tender age of 8. While Belle’s mother had not left by choice, the anger at her loss was similar enough to that which Neal concealed behind easy smiles and sarcastic jokes.

Until now, she hadn’t thought about the impact Milah’s desertion must have had on her husband. Neal had been too young to remember much. He said he didn’t recall ever seeing his mother happy, though there must have been a time… Thaddeus Gold may be a difficult man to love, but it was certainly not impossible. There was such a quiet yearning behind those hardened eyes.

Belle found herself wondering how things might have played out had she been a bit older and he a bit younger. If they had met as perceived equals, might she still feel the confusing things that she did for him? Would this uncomfortable infatuation fade as she matured? Or was this the fabled first love it was said every girl her age must suffer through before moving on to better things? It certainly pained her enough. When they were together, every sense was on high alert. It was all touch and smell and sensation. It was visceral to the point of distraction. But that was all they shared, this powerful attraction and a need for touch. When they were not together, she longed for his company and hated that longing. Because she knew it was pointless to think of him that way.

He was her lover and the father of the child she carried, but there was no future in this. The baby would have parents who were in love, a family made whole. Not two broken people, struggling to get by. Not a teenage mother who hadn’t the first clue how to love the way a mother ought.

That thought choked her and Belle turned away, hoping Thaddeus would not see the tears that had sprung to her eyes.

Of course, he did,

“Belle? What’s wrong? Did I… are you hurt?”

His hands were warm on her shoulders and she wanted to fold into his embrace. She wanted to let him hold her, love her, tell her pretty lies about everything being alright. But instead, she peeled herself away, her voice turning brusque. “Yeah, just have a lot on my mind. I’ll see you next time.”

“Yes,” Thaddeus breathed his consent with a tone of surrender. Because he knew that’s what it was. Belle would come back when she had s Doctor’s appointment or thought of something to add to the contract. Or when she just needed to get fucked again. And he would be there, waiting, either way. He would sigh that same _yes_ into her hair, let her drink it from his mouth, fill the air between them with single syllables. All to hold back the words he truly wanted to say. The question on the tip of his tongue that he swallowed over and over as Belle walked out of his door without a backward glance.

Thaddeus had not counted on this. He knew that keeping one secret from Belle would be hard enough. She was bright and intuitive, not easily manipulated. But now that he was beginning to realize the effect she could have on him… the secrets kept growing.

He’d have to deal with this later. There was work to be done, errands to run. An antique cradle had become available through a fellow dealer and he had an appointment to pick it up. The trick would be sneaking it into the spare room without Neal seeing it.

They rarely used that room, these days. At one point, the plan had been a craft room for Milah. But it now lay abandoned, dusty and crowded with boxes. He had slowly started sifting through them on nights when Neal stayed out late with his girlfriend. He’d picked out a wallpaper and gender-neutral color scheme online, but refrained from ordering. In the early Spring, Neal would go on his annual camping trip for 4 days. Plenty of time to paint, then. Until then, he chipped away at the mess, dusting and cleaning as he went. No need to rush. He had about another 7 months, after all.


	6. Thorn in My Side

As though it had some sort of magnetic hold on her, Belle found herself drawn to the back room of Thaddeus’ shop at least a couple times each week. They had fucked on practically every surface that would support body weight – and once made an ill-advised attempt against a wobbly end table that, fortunately, ended more in laughter than in bodily injury. True to his word, as Belle’s belly turned from concave to convex, Thaddeus’ desire for her never wavered an iota. In fact, there were times she swore he was more aroused by her now than ever before. It was probably just the excitement of having clandestine sex on the regular.

There were some days when Belle hated her changing body, hated the man who had helped put her in this situation. But on other days, all she wanted was to fall apart in his arms, under his delightfully skilled hands or mouth. When he was making her come, the rest of the world didn’t matter so much and the burden she bore seemed lighter, somehow.

And this particular burden was starting to get heavier.

Wearing just her elastic-topped jeans and a bra, Belle turned sideways in her full length mirror. She straightened her back and smoothed a hand over her rounded belly. She was 5 months along and living in chunky, oversized sweaters. Luckily it was still cold enough to get away with that look and not arouse suspicion. Her hips and breasts ached, and her high heels were collecting dust in the closet. Although, now she’d hit her second trimester, she wasn’t nearly as tired as she had been. Neal checked in with her on a regular basis but he was still the only one of her friends she had told. She wanted to tell Jefferson but they hadn’t seen much of one another since the school year started. He was back in teacher-mode and Belle was, admittedly distracted. The other girls just didn’t feel like an option. Something about this pregnancy made her feel very protective of her friends. As though revealing it to them would ruin their few remaining moments of childhood.

Some part of her knew it was a ridiculous notion. Ruby was the one who had taught Belle how to use a condom. Ariel had already had one pregnancy scare with her boyfriend Eric, who was already in college. But none of the girls in her class were carrying an actual life inside of them. It made Belle feel different, an outsider in a way that she hadn’t felt since her mother’s death. She’d always been a little peculiar, but being friends with Neal, who was very popular, had helped her learn how to fit in. Now, she was isolated all over again and at least partly by choice.

At least Dr. Porter told her that she seemed to be in good health. The baby was growing at the proper rate. At her next visit, it would be far enough along to tell the sex.

For some reason, Belle had been thinking a lot about that, lately. Not knowing if she even should name it, Belle had taken to thinking of the baby as “Thorn.” This was partly because it was such a thorn in her side but also because of something her aunt in Australia had once told her. Belle’s name had almost been Rose. Collette had had her heart set on that name from childhood. But, due to Moe’s line of work, her parents decided against it. Still, growing up, Belle had always loved roses. They were beauty with an unexpected bite and thorns were their teeth. There was poetry in the thought that Baby Thorn would be somehow better and braver than its mama.

Not that it would ever know any of that. In about 4 months, Thorn would go to a loving home – with the option of looking her up when it got older. She had debated on that clause, going back and forth for weeks. But she decided if Thorn inherited her curious nature, it would find a way to seek her out either way. It may as well know where to look.

What a weird thought, Belle realized. In 10 or 15 years, a child she’d never met could show up at her doorstep. Would they embrace? What would she say?

Would Baby Thorn resent her? What name would it have, by then? Would it look more like her or like Thaddeus? She had never seen a picture of Neal’s mother, so she mostly saw his father in him, but she had always known there must be something of that mystery woman in Neal’s dark eyes and hair. Would Thorn want to meet its father?

Oh God, how would she even handle that?

Belle slumped onto her bed, wrapping both arms protectively around her stomach. She was thinking too much about this. She glanced at her clock and jumped back up. If she didn’t get dressed now, she’d be late for school.

She pulled on a purple cable knit sweater and glanced at her reflection.

“Hmm, this one may not have as much wear in it as I’d hoped.” She looked down at her belly and shook her head. “You are just wreaking havoc on my wardrobe, I hope you know. In a couple of weeks, I’ll need all new sweaters.”

Belle sighed and changed her sweater just as she heard Ruby yell for her from below her window.

“Coming!” she yelled back, slinging her bag over one shoulder and bolting out the door.

Moe French, who was just finishing his morning coffee, watched his daughter race out of the door without so much as a word of greeting. There hadn’t been so many of those, lately, now that he thought about it. He and Belle had never been close. When Collette told him he was going to be a father, he’d been overjoyed. A bundle of love shared between his wife and himself was an exciting prospect. But losing Collette had struck a blow deep within him.

He had loved that woman more than he ever loved anyone, including himself. For years after losing her, he had tried so hard just to get through the day. It was only now, as Belle was preparing to leave to for college, that he was starting to realize how much of her life he’d managed to miss out on. In the haze of his depression, he’d thought his little daughter must have been the stronger of the two of them. She seemed so self-sufficient at such a young age. So smart and responsible.

But Moe was starting to see that she’d taken on those traits because _someone_ had to. Someone had to be the adult and back then, it wasn’t him. Moe knew he had wronged his daughter. Not that she’d even indicated even a moment’s resentment for it. She had quietly done what needed doing and left him to his misery.

He stared, unseeing, at the newspaper in front of him. Perhaps it wasn’t too late. Perhaps he could reach out to her, get to know the woman his little girl was becoming.

Or perhaps she would only resent him for wanting to be in her life after all this time.

After all, he had abandoned her when she needed him most. Now that she was nearly grown, she didn’t need him at all. And he felt like a ghost in his own house.

***

“So,” Dr. Jane Porter held the sonogram device in one hand, poised over Belle’s midsection, “do we want to know the sex? Because this is your first chance…”

Belle opened her mouth and then closed it. Her brow furrowed and she drew her lower lip into her mouth. She looked up at Thaddeus, who stood at her side.

Thaddeus didn’t care either way. As far as he was concerned, Belle could be carrying a purple dragon in there and he had every intention of loving it with all of his heart. He had planned the nursery colors and baby clothes to be gender neutral. Bae had loved the color pink as a small child and Thaddeus had thought it ridiculous to deprive his son of a toy or item of clothing based on something as arbitrary as color. There were still a handful of pictures of Bae learning to walk while wearing a pink striped onesie.

So, this child might love blue or green or purple. Thaddeus would be happy to adapt to whatever color scheme served as they went along. Gender was the least of his concerns.

At length, he shrugged at Belle, who looked even more troubled now that the decision rested solely on her shoulders.

“I guess… I guess it doesn’t matter, really,” she sighed. “I mean, it’s not like I need to know, right?” There was a heaviness to her voice that struck a chord in Thaddeus. He studied her face, the shuttered eyes, the drawn mouth.

Belle wanted to know.

She was pretending it didn’t matter. Perhaps to protect herself from getting too attached. Perhaps to prove to him that she was not invested in this child. Either way, she was not a very effective liar. An odd wave of fiercely protective warmth washed over him. Whether it was for Belle or the baby, he couldn’t tell. It was becoming harder and harder to separate his love for the unborn child with the growing affection he held for its mother. Which made the role he was playing right now all the more dangerous. Not to mention, the toll it was taking on what was left of his conscience. Rather than the devious dealmaker he prided himself on being, these days he felt no better than a thief.

Dr. Porter went about moving the tool across Belle’s body and pointing out developing limbs. Belle watched the screen with an avid attention.

“God, there’s a whole little person in there, now,” she said, quietly.

Just then, Belle jumped in her seat. On the small screen, the baby had shifted its foot.

Belle’s jaw dropped and she blinked rapidly. “It kicked me. It’s never done that before.”

“Hmm, must be excited to be onscreen. You might have a future actor or actress in there,” Dr. Porter joked.

Thaddeus’ throat felt tight. His child. That was his baby moving, stretching its tiny limbs. He blinked back tears that burned the backs of his eyes.

Belle, herself, seemed to be fixated. Her lower lip trembled. The baby kicked out again and a foot became clearly discernible on the screen. Belle covered her mouth with one hand. She mumbled a word he couldn’t quite understand and Thaddeus reached out instinctively to squeeze her shoulder. She covered his hand with her free one, keeping him there.

For just a moment, Thaddeus allowed himself the fantasy that Belle actually wanted him there. That the baby was actually theirs, to share and love together. That Belle would ever want him in her life, again, once the baby was born.

Dr. Porter lifted the device away and the spell was broken. Belle dropped both hands to her sides, casting her face down.

“Well, everything looks good, here. Let’s get this goo cleaned off, shall we?” Dr. Porter produced some wet towelettes.

Belle looked like she was about to cry.

Thaddeus choked back the lump in his throat and held up one hand. “Wait, Jane.” He turned to Belle, stroking her hair delicately. “Belle, the… adoptive parents might want to know. Would you mind very much if I asked about the gender?”

Belle looked up at him, her eyes shining with gratitude. “No, I, um, I don’t mind at all.”

Thaddeus gestured to the Doctor. “Please, Jane, if you don’t mind.”

Dr. Porter was looking between them with a curious expression but she switched the sonogram back on and returned the wand to Belle’s stomach. All eyes were fixed on the screen.

“Well… it looks like we have ourselves a little girl, folks.” The doctor hesitate and then beamed at them. “A beautiful healthy baby girl.”

The baby extended it's leg again and Belle jumped slightly.

“Active too,” Dr. Porter joked. She turned off the equipment and helped Belle to clean up.

“I hope the parents will be happy to hear it, Mr. Gold,” She added, making a note on her chart.

“Oh yes. Perfectly,” he breathed. 

***

In the car on the way back to Storybrooke, Belle was very quiet. Her mind was crowded with the images of her daughter (not _her_ daughter, she reminded herself, sternly). The little girl, growing inside of her. Thorn. Or should it be Thornlet? Thornina? Thornetta?

Belle bit back a manic giggle, though there was no real humor in it.

Thaddeus seemed to notice her twitch and his eyes flicked sideways to her. “Alright, sweetheart?”

She felt his gentle concern like a battering ram, knocking down the walls she was desperately trying to build around her psyche. Tears broke through, trailing hotly down each cheek before she could stop them. She turned her head toward the window, leaning back in her seat.

“Belle?” Thaddeus pressed.

Trying to keep her voice steady, Belle sighed. “Yeah, just…. Hormonal, I guess.”

“What can I do?” His hand landed on her leg, not in a suggestive manner, though the implication was inherent.

_How can I make it go away?_

He didn’t ever say the words, but they both knew. Those stolen moments were just another way to hide, for both of them.

Belle shook her head. “I’m fine,” she lied, but she didn’t push his hand away. It was an oddly comforting warmth through her cotton leggings. As it had been in the exam room, earlier. As was his presence at her side through all of her appointments, so far, though she didn’t want to give too much thought to why that was.

Dr. Porter had given the option of having Thaddeus leave the room, but Belle reckoned he’d already seen everything there was to see. And it was nice, not being alone. Not that she was ever really alone, these days. Thorn was ever present in her mind.

She didn’t want that, right now. She didn’t want to think or feel or…. Anything, right now. She needed to get out of her own head.

Belle placed her hand tentatively on top of Thaddeus’, weaving her fingers between his. With gentle pressure, she urged his touch upward “Take me back to the shop?” She watched his throat work, her hand moving his slowly up her thigh.

“If that’s... what you want.” His voice was thick and rough.

Belle licked her lips and her knees fell apart. She shunted her hips, adjusting the seatbelt to accommodate her swollen belly. “Yes…” she whispered as his fingers brushed the apex of her thighs, sending shocks of pleasure through her.

_Make me forget. Make me not feel anything but what you can do to me._

Her hand fell away as he took over, applying gentle pressure. As he rubbed the dampening fabric over her sex, Belle’s eyes closed. She focused only on the sensations, her nipples tightening, heat curling up her spine. The practiced movements of Thaddeus’ clever fingers drawing her out, spiraling the sensation from her core and outward to each extremity. Her head fell back against the seat. She was panting, unabashedly pressing herself into his hand.

And there is was. That sheer weightlessness. Everything tingled and pulsed and every thought faded from her mind. Just for a moment.

They passed the town line and Thaddeus withdrew his hand. He took backroads as Belle lolled, boneless against the seat. Once they arrived at the shop it was dark. She followed him into the backroom without a word.

And Thaddeus helped her forget herself twice more before driving her home.


	7. Mi Casa es Tu Casa

Things had been going relatively smoothly, considering Thaddeus was 40 year old man whose 18 year old lover was carrying his illegitimate child. A child he intended to keep for his own, but had not had the courage to face Belle’s inevitable refusal by asking. A child he had felt flex and kick while her mother rode him vigorously on a chair or a cot.

He was lying to his lover, the mother of his future daughter. He was lying to his son, the best friend of said lover. If he really thought about it too long, he was probably lying to himself. About… a lot of things. He had gotten too good at lying, with so much practice over the years. Because it was always so easy to convince himself they weren’t really lies. Just another interpretation of the truth.

He was fulfilling his deal with Belle by finding a safe, loving home for the baby. Neal didn’t even know he was handling the case, as it were, and had never directly asked. And sleeping with Belle, repeatedly, in almost every position he had been able to imagine… well, as long as no words were spoken between them, it felt as much like truth as anything ever had.

He could ignore the way his heart took off at a gallop at the very mention of her name, at spotting her auburn curls halfway down the street. He could excuse the ridiculous notion of drawing her close, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, just for the simple pleasure of feeling her in his arms. Lust was a powerful drug, after all. And he had been in its thrall at least once before.

This was nothing more than that. And if he enjoyed the way her eyes would sparkle when she got lost in a tangent of storytelling… who wouldn’t want to see that dreamy look on such a lovely face, really? Who wouldn’t want to know that the mother of their child was as clever and kind as she was beautiful?

Thaddeus had known Belle peripherally for so long, he was well aware of her academic achievements. What he had not known, until recently, was that her extracurricular activities extended far beyond those needed for college credit. Up until a few months ago, Belle had been volunteering at the local church-run soup kitchen every Wednesday night and sometimes on Sundays.

Thaddeus, never having gone to the local soup kitchen, only found out quite by accident.

Neal slammed the front door and thudded his way through the house. Upstairs, Thaddeus jumped, shoving the supplies back into the spare room where he’d been working and quietly but firmly closing the door. He made his way downstairs.

In the kitchen, Neal was taking large, vicious bites of a banana, chewing noisily, and glaring into space.

“What on earth did that poor fruit ever do to you?” Thaddeus ventured, hoping a little humor would ease his son’s obviously foul mood. He hated that Neal had inherited his temper. Hopefully, he could do better with his daughter.

Neal swallowed and frowned. “Dad, I know it’s not nice to speak ill of my elders, or whatever…”

“Not that it’s ever stopped you before.” Thaddeus observed and was rewarded with a slight upward quirk of his son’s mouth.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, so, Emma, Belle, Ariel, August and me were out on 3rd street, right? And Ariel sees the Mother Superior, you know, from the church?” Neal pointed, with his half-eaten banana, vaguely in the direction of the hill that the church and convent occupied.

“That’s usually where they keep them, yes.”

Neal rolled his eyes. “You’re hilarious, Pop. So, Ariel goes to tell the Holy Bitchface –“

“Watch it.” Thaddeus chided (though he secretly agreed).

Neal held up a hand, palm outward. “She totally deserves it. Plus I’ve heard you call her way worse.”

Thaddeus’ jaw dropped. There was no denying it. The Mother Superior was high on his list of least favorite people. And it was a long list. He made a mental note to look into soundproofing his home office and gestured for his son to continue.

“And Ariel tells Mother Whats-her-face that she won’t be able to go to the soup kitchen this weekend because she’s leaving on the camping trip with us tomorrow. The Mother starts giving her a hard time because she and Belle haven’t been around as much, lately. They used to go, like, every week. But, I mean, it’s our senior year. We’ve all got a lot going on. Plus, well, you know why Belle doesn’t go out as much as she used to. We had to practically drag her out with us and she was all bundled up, but it’s still pretty obvious.” With his free hand, Neal made a descriptive arc over his abdomen. “I mean, like, it’s kind of an open secret around school, now. Well, Belle jumps to Ariel’s defense and the Mother just turns on her. It was like, if she could shoot hellfire from her eyes, she totally would have. She starts talking about how Belle ‘turned her back on the church’ and Belle starts to get all upset and argue back. And then you could just tell when the Mother figured it out. She got really quiet and was staring at Belle’s stomach.” Neal paused to take another large bite of his banana.

Thaddeus felt his own stomach sink into his shoes. It was bad enough to hear that Belle’s schoolmates were aware of her situation, but the Mother Superior could only mean trouble. He had thought that, at her petite size, it would be easier to hide. But their daughter was growing fast and carrying high. “And?” he prompted, barely daring to breathe.

“And this crazy nun just goes off. She starts talking fire and brimstone, saying Belle is a sinner and all sorts of nasty stuff. Emma was ready to jump the bitch. Sorry – nun. Nun-bitch. Whatever. But Belle is taking it pretty well, even though she looks about to cry and we’re all telling the Mother to back the… um to back off and she actually reaches out and touches Belle’s… you know, the baby. Belle lost it. I’ve known her almost half our lives and I’ve never seen her that angry. She chased the Mother down the street, yelling about judging others lest ye be judged and stuff.”

Thaddeus felt his own anger mounting. He gripped the handle of his cane so hard, he felt he might snap the curved tip. How fucking dare that self-righteous cunt lay a hand on Belle or their – her – his…. baby! He took a deep breath to calm himself. Luckily, Neal had finished his banana and turned his back on his silently seething father in order to raid the fridge.

“So, yeah, how fu- uh, messed up is that, Pop? How do they let people like that into the church, let alone promote them?” Neal surfaced with a can of soda and bag of pepperoni. “It was almost kinda funny to watch Belle run after a nun, though… But please don’t tell her I said that…  Pop? You okay?”

Thaddeus realized he must not have put his face back into place as effectively as he’d hoped. He forced himself to nod, affecting a neutral expression. “Yes, fine. It’s a travesty, I agree. Don’t eat too much of that. You’ll ruin your dinner.”

“What is for dinner, anyway?” Neal looked around the kitchen as if expecting a casserole to appear.

Thaddeus heaved a sigh and dug into one pocket. From his money clip, he loosed a couple $20s. “How about you go to Granny’s and pick us up something. Your choice.”

Neal’s mouth twisted. “Can I take the car?”

Thaddeus hesitated then nodded. It would give him more time if Neal went on foot, but it might look suspicious if he refused.

“Cool. Back in a few!” Neal raced for the door, grabbing the keys off the hook before Thaddeus could change his mind.

Thaddeus pulled out his phone as soon as he heard the engine start. It rang and rang, eventually going to a polite voicemail that sounded nothing like the Belle he knew. He hit the button again. This time it went straight to voicemail. Desperate, he sent a text.

No reply.

He was still staring forlornly at his inert phone, breathing unsteadily, when he heard Neal pull back into the driveway. He sent another quick text to let Belle know he’d have his phone on all night, if she needed anything. Then, he tucked it into his pocket and tried to pretend he had an appetite for whatever Granny had thrown into a Styrofoam box.

***

Belle tried to stifle a yawn and failed. Their English teacher didn’t seem to notice as she expounded upon Shakespeare’s many flawless words of wisdom (which were mostly dirty jokes, but she was in no mood to disillusion the teacher). With a half-lidded detachment Belle watched the tall, slender brunette rhapsodize.

She had been up half the night arguing with her father. It figured he’d pick now to finally remember he was a parent. After their little altercation on 3rd Street, the Mother Superior had taken it upon herself to phone the French residence. Belle had come home to a barrage of questions she had no desire to answer. At first, she had tried to play it off as a cruel joke, but her rotundity gave her away. For the first time in months, Moe really looked at his daughter and suddenly seemed to realize she’d grown very, very far away from him.

It would have been bad enough, but it might have blown over, had Belle not been already so angry. 10 years of ignoring her as she learned to make her own breakfast and tuck herself in at night. Years of wondering what family was even supposed to feel like.

Most of those years she’d spent around Neal, whose father who loved him. So, there was, at least, some perspective.

And yes, she realized that it was probably how she’d developed a crush on Thaddeus in the first place. And yes, she realized how disgustingly Freudian that was. Although, his kindness to her through this whole ordeal… dealing with her mood swings – never mind that he benefited just as well from her coping mechanisms… Belle was becoming aware that her attachment to Mr. Thaddeus Gold was beginning to take much deeper roots. That was a vastly uncomfortable thought to be saved for another time.  

But it was, in fact, Moe’s demand she name the father that broke the final straw. Belle told him to go to Hell.

When they had finally stopped yelling, nothing had been resolved. Moe made a decree. Tell him who the father was or get out of his house. He had nothing else to threaten her with, after all. The roof over her head was the one thing left that he could still take away.

Belle walked out, not sure where she was even going. She’d spent the rest of the night on the cot in the back of the pawn shop. It was only as her eyes flew open to the first rays of the morning sun that she realized she had left her cell phone in the pocket of her other coat. The one she’d left at her father’s house.

She got to school early and napped briefly in the library until the bell rang. It was Friday. Moe would be home early from the flower shop, so he could start his weekend of solitary drinking in front of the television. But he’d be out again on Saturday. She could sneak back in and grab her phone and some clothes, then.

Perhaps by then he’d have even mellowed enough to realize what a dick move it was to evict your pregnant teenage daughter. But she wasn’t going to hold her breath for that last one.

She yawned again, longing for the bell to ring.

At long last it was lunch time. Neal slid into the seat beside hers, Emma following close behind. Ariel sat across from her, Ruby beside Ariel and Ashley at the end. August was off flirting with a group of cheerleaders, but he flashed a warm smile from across the room. Belle took a deep breath, allowing herself to relax temporarily in the company of her friends.

They chatted about nothing in particular as they ate. It was pleasant. She sometimes felt undeserving of their kindness, having doubted them in the beginning. But her friends continued to surprise her with their gentle understanding. The way they made space for the changes going on in her life, without demanding anything from her. In the last month, she had slowly been able to open up to them about the pregnancy. They all wanted to know who the father was, of course, but no one pressured her for answers. So unlike her own flesh and blood. Maybe family really was just what you made of it.

Belle managed to make it through the rest of her day, barely. By the time she and Neal sat in the bleachers, watching Emma’s volleyball practice, she had made up her mind.

“You guys leaving tonight?”

“Yeah, straight from school. Wish you could come with…” Neal fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket.

Belle shook her head. “I don’t think camping in this weather is a good idea in my… condition.” She swallowed, looked away from her dear friend. “Though I may have no choice, soon enough.”

Neal’s head snapped to her. “What to do you mean, Bluebelle?”

“My dad. He, uh,” she laughed nervously, “he kicked me out.”

“Jesus! What a dick!”

“That’s what I said.” Belle agreed, trying to sound casual. Cool. Not at all falling to pieces.

Neal smacked his hand on the bleacher behind him. “Fuck him. That’s not right. There has to be a law…”

Belle shrugged. “I’m 18. He can do what he wants. So can I, for that matter.”

“It’s shit. That’s what it is. God, what kind of father…” Neal looked apologetically at Belle. “Sorry. I shouldn’t say that. He is still your dad.”

Belle pursed her lips. “I’ve said worse.” She stared, unseeing, out over the practice field. One hand came to rest, protectively over her belly. Thornlet gave a tiny kick. She smiled despite herself, looking down at her daughter.

Neal was watching her curiously. “Can I… is it moving around in there?”

Belle nodded. “You… wanna feel?”

“Is that weird?”

“I’m the last person to judge what’s weird.” Belle placed Neal’s hand lightly over where Thornlet’s foot had landed her earlier blow. They sat for a moment before the baby moved again and Neal’s face lit up in wonder.

“I felt it!”

“Her,” Belle corrected.

“Her. Does she have a name?” he asked.

 _Yes_ , she thought. “No,” she said. “No point in naming her. I’m not keeping her. I’d be a terrible mom. She’ll go to a nice family. People who will love her and treat her right. And won’t kick her out at 18 if she gets herself knocked up like her stupid mother.” The bitter tone escaped before she could rein it in.

“You’re not stupid, Belle. Hell, you run rings around me in every AP class. Always have.” Neal removed his hand and turned back to the practice field where Emma was doing an adorable victory dance. “And I don’t think you’d be a terrible mom, either. I mean, who took care of me that year at summer camp when I refused to admit I’d caught the flu?”

“Yeah and ended up puking her guts up right alongside you because she wasn’t careful enough.” Belle added, but her smile was returning as she remembered that summer when they were 12. They had both begged to go to the local camp. Gold gave in and paid for both of them, as Moe had adamantly refused (not that he had the money, anyway). They had spoken of nothing else for weeks, only for Neal to catch flu the second day and Belle to follow shortly after. In all, Belle only got to ride one horse and Neal spent more time in his cabin than in a canoe.

Still, it was one of the best summers Belle could recall. It was the first time she’d realized how much she and Neal truly cared about one another.

Neal slid closer on the metal bench, wrapping an arm around Belle’s shoulders. “Look, why don’t I have August drop you at my place, tonight? Dad won’t mind. You can stay in my room or on the couch. Whatever you like.”

“Shouldn’t you ask your dad, first?” Belle wanted very badly to say yes, but she couldn’t imagine just taking Thaddeus by surprise like that. It wasn’t the back room of the shop. It was his home.

Neal made a dismissive noise. “Mi casa es tu casa. Besides the old man loves you.”


	8. Wash Away the Day

Thaddeus had set aside this weekend to work on the nursery. The wallpaper and paint cans were neatly stacked next to the assembled cradle and an antique rocking chair he hadn’t been able to resist. There was a neatly folded tarp all ready to cover the furniture, clean brushes and other assorted painting supplies on top of them for safe keeping. After Neal left for school, Thaddeus had cracked the door to let the room air out. Despite the dusting he had snuck in, it was still a little musty from having been sealed off for so long. He’d have to open the windows, too, while he was painting. It wasn’t going to be easy with a bum leg.

But Neal would be out by the lake with his friends until Sunday night, so that gave him Friday evening and all day both Saturday and Sunday. Not a paltry amount of time if he managed it well.

He was quite proud of himself for having planned everything so carefully. By the time the baby was born, she would have a lovely room, clean, freshly decorated, and sweet smelling. He would have to deal with Neal, of course. The boy was bound to have opinions about his father taking on an infant. The fact it was Belle’s infant would complicate things even further. The fact that Belle might be angry enough by then to divulge that he was the father of said infant… he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. If he came to it.

Belle could be rash and impulsive, especially when angered, but she wasn’t the sort to result to a public shaming. She may very well tell Neal, but he had a feeling she would still keep things close to the vest. Besides, she would be away to college soon enough. She’d been accepted by several prestigious schools, though she remained tight-lipped about which she chose. With her out of the picture, the town would forget the scandal, eventually.

His heart gave a curious little twinge when he thought of living in a Storybrooke without Belle. Funny, that. He had moved here before she was born, raised his son here. His presence in this town was far greater than that of Belle French. Just a slip of a girl, really, with her head in the clouds and her nose in a book. How had she come to be so much a part of his life that the very town would seem emptier without her in it?

Thaddeus shook his head, turning his key in the lock of his front door. No time to dwell on that. He had work to do.

Much to his complete surprise, the object of his contemplation was curled up on his sofa, fast asleep. He blinked rapidly, wondering if he could be hallucinating her. She looked very cozy in his parlor, her head resting on the arm of the sofa, legs tucked under her. On the table beside her, Thaddeus noticed piece of notebook paper.

 

> _Hey Pop,_
> 
> _We left for the lake before you got home because we wanted to get there before sunset. Belle needs a place to crash tonight so I told her she can use my room. She was asleep before I even finished changing the sheets (yeah, I changed the sheets. I told you I can be responsible.) So, I thought I’d just leave you a head’s up. She’s had a bad day so, try to be nice, OK?_
> 
> _Love you!_

Thaddeus skimmed the note twice before placing it back on the table. A truck rumbled by outside and Belle jolted awake.

“Thaddeus!” She pulled herself into a sitting position, pawing at her tousled curls. “Oh, god… I’m so sorry. Neal insisted on bringing me here and I thought I’d just wait til you got home and then get going. I must have…” she rubbed at her face with both hands before dropping them into her lap. “Sorry. I should get going.” This was absolutely not the way she wanted Thaddeus to see her, sleep deprived and grubby from wearing the same clothes for two days.

“Nonsense, you look like a gust of wind would blow you over. Which can’t be good for either you or the precious cargo.” He indicated her stomach and Belle gave the hint of a smile. Rounding the table, he sat beside her. Belle seemed to shrink in on herself, folding her arms protectively over her belly.

“Belle… Why did Neal say you needed a place to go?” he asked, softly.

Belle stared down, unseeing. She couldn’t tell him what all had happened. He already knew her father was kind of a shit, but for years, she had been making excuses for Moe. When he dropped the ball, Belle had followed right behind to pick it up. She had forged his signature on permission slips and learned how to use his credit card for the groceries. If she only bought small amounts, it looked like a dutiful daughter running errands, not like she was the only one who remembered to put anything in the fridge besides beer.

“Belle?” Thaddeus prompted again. This time, he gently touched his fingertips to her chin, urging her to look at him. “Do you need a… a home?”

This was a bad idea. This was a horrible idea. _Do not invite your teenage lover, who is carrying your illegitimate love child (that you plan to keep without her permission), to live in your home_. Alarm bells were sounding in every part of his brain. But when he felt her chin wobble in his hand, he knew he didn’t care about the logistics, didn’t care about the ridiculous and awful consequences that would surely follow. If Belle needed a home, by God he would give her one.

And he knew in that moment that it wasn’t just for the baby. Perhaps none of it had been no matter what he told himself when she came to him for release. Oh yes, he loved his unborn daughter fiercely, protectively, even selfishly. But whatever it was he felt for Belle… it wasn’t as a vessel for his child. It wasn’t because he loved the way she felt, clenching around his cock and swallowing his kisses. It wasn’t because his son had practically adopted her years ago and she’d become somewhat of a fixture in their lives.

No, he wanted Belle’s happiness simply because she was Belle. Because she was light and joy and everything that shone so brightly that even the life of misery and half-truths she’d been leading couldn’t extinguish it.

She gasped slightly as his mouth came crashing down on hers, but she did not pull away. After a moment of surprise, she was kissing him back, hard and demanding. Her hands came to his shoulders, pushing his jacket away. He shrugged out of it, letting the expensive piece drop to the floor without a second thought. He just wanted more and now and closer. He wanted to feel her skin against his. He wanted to bury himself inside her and never leave.

She pulled away just long enough to stand and remove her jeans. He yanked them down with her knickers and she straddled his lap. He was already hard, straining against his zipper. She palmed him through his trousers, sucking his lower lip into her mouth. He unbuttoned his fly and took himself out, pumping a couple of times for the sheer pleasure of it. Belle’s eyes were feral as she took in his hard length, his hand wrapped around the shaft. With his assistance, she shifted forward in his lap, sinking down on his cock, impaling herself with a loud moan.

He kissed every bit of skin his lips could reach as Belle’s hips moved frantically. Her hands on his shoulders she used as leverage. He kept one hand under her belly to support the added weight, the other at her clit, working furiously in time to her downward thrusts. Her inner walls clamped down and he knew he wasn’t going to last but at least he had seen her there, first. Her head tipped back as she swore and came. Thaddeus followed, spilling himself deep within.

Both sweating and panting, they sat for a few moments in the aftermath of their frenzied coupling. Thaddeus felt himself soften and slip from her.

Belle touched her forehead to his. “Thank you. I needed that.” She kissed him lightly and moved to stand up. He helped her without a word. He tucked himself away and buttoned up his fly as she pulled her jeans back on, the elastic waist accommodating her easily.

“I can… “ she gestured toward the door. This was usually what happened after they fucked. One or the other left. It was too awkward, otherwise. What else could they possibly even have to say to one another?

He shook his head, still trying to collect his scattered thoughts. “Don’t be silly. Neal offered you his room for the night. Please, stay. I’ll make us some dinner.”

“You don’t have to just because – ”

“Belle,” his tone bordered on stern but it got her attention. “I want to. Let me take care of you?”

Belle’s breath caught. She looked at him and he met her gaze openly. His was completely in earnest. Her hands trembled and she hid it by placing them at her hips. It was for the baby, of course. She had to remind herself that she was an investment. Thaddeus Gold had been good to her, but everyone knew he was only out for what he could get. The adoptive couple he had in mind must have offered a very generous deal. She wondered if she’d get to meet them before handing her child over.

Probably best that she didn’t.

Belle cleared her throat, “Um, yeah. Okay. I could eat. But… could I use your shower, first?”

A gentle smile spread across Thaddeus’ face, one that reflected within his eyes. It made him look… softer, younger even.

He spread his hands. “Of course, sweetheart. Anything you need.”

Belle blinked stupidly at him then left the room with a nod. In a daze, she made her way upstairs to Neal’s bathroom. It was the first door on the right, across from Neal’s room. After that there was a long hallway that bent to the right. She assumed Mr. Gold’s room was in that direction. It occurred to her, as she shed her clothes, that she had never been further than this hallway. She had been fucking the master of the house for 6 months and never once seen his bedroom. In fact, they’d never made it so far as a bed. Unless you counted the cot in the back room of the shop. Which she didn’t.

For just a moment, Belle let her mind wander past what it might be like to have Thaddeus lay her out on a real bed. For them to take their time and just enjoy one another in a leisurely exploration rather than a race to the finish line on borrowed time.

She shrugged off the thought and stepped into the tub, cold porcelain sending a chill through her.

***

In the kitchen, Thaddeus was pouring over recipe books. He knew it was ridiculous to feel nervous over making the woman dinner when he’d just debauched her in his parlor for the second time in a year. But that didn’t stop the thrumming of his blood in his veins. He wanted to make her something special. Something memorable. Something she would still be able to taste long after his name had curdled on her lips.

The problem was that Thaddeus was really only a mediocre chef.

Living for years as a bachelor with a young boy to feed, he had mastered the art of pizza, mac and cheese, and hamburger helper. None of those culinary masterpieces seemed quite special enough for the one night he’d be able to entertain the mother of his child in his own house.

He tore apart the refrigerator looking for tantalizing ingredients that his son had not already eaten half of. Lunchmeat, cheese, some lettuce that had seen better days. Hamburger meat. He eyed the sealed package of premium red meat that was intended to be mixed with something from a box.

Well… Belle did need iron. And she did like Granny’s hamburgers. Surely he could prepare at least a little something better than Granny Lucas’ hearty but bland fare.  

He found a recipe online that sounded tempting and set to work.

The house was filling with delicious smells and even Thaddeus’ stomach had begun to growl by the time Belle emerged from the bathroom. She leaned over the railing and took a deep breath, her mouth watering.

“Um, Thaddeus?” she called.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Do you… Is there anything I could wear, besides my old clothes?” She asked, pulling the towel closer around her body

Thaddeus limped to the front of the house and looked up. Belle leaned on the bannister, her head cocked to one side, damp hair already curling into ringlets. From this vantage point, swathed in the oversized royal blue towel from Neal’s bathroom, Belle looked like a Goddess. A scantily clad Goddess, at that. In fact, if he stepped forward he could probably see all the way up… He felt himself twitch within his trousers and looked away from where the towel was slit just slightly over her thigh.

Dinner would burn to a crisp if he followed that particular train of thought any further.

“I have a robe in the dryer down here. I’ll fetch it for you.” He head back toward the kitchen at a pace just a little faster than his bad leg would have liked. The laundry room was on the other side and the pain would ground him. He heard Belle saying something behind him but he needed to get the image of her in the towel out of his mind, so he didn’t stop to listen.

From the dryer, he pulled a load of other jewel-toned towels and a soft terrycloth robe. It was a men’s size small. It might swim on her but at least it would suffice to cover all the parts of Belle he would need covered if he was ever going to finish cooking.

Turning back to the doorway, he almost walked straight into the girl, herself.

“Oh! Sorry!” Belle wobbled backwards and Thaddeus dropped the robe to steady her on her feet.

“Alright?” he asked, rubbing the place where he’d gripped her upper arm to impede her from falling backward.

She grinned shyly. “I don’t know how but I think I’m actually clumsier out of heels than in them.”

Thaddeus gave a light chuckle. “Is that why you always wore them?”

Belle shrugged. “I guess. I think they made me feel more like an adult.” Her gaze flicked down, below where her other hand still clutched the towel over her breasts. “Don’t really need that reminder, anymore.” She grin faded slightly. Having a child wasn’t a rite of passage for womanhood. She knew that, intellectually. But feeling little Thornlet growing and stretching and kicking. Well, there wasn’t more of a wakeup call out there that her own childhood had long since been left behind.

Thaddeus released her arm and cupped her cheek. “You’ll be in them again, soon. If you like. Or you never have to wear them again. It will always be your choice, Belle. Whatever you… put on your feet.”

The metaphor was so obvious and so clunky that it was laughable. But Belle didn’t feel like laughing. With an indrawn breath, she threw both arms around Thaddeus. Her towel dropped to the ground and she didn’t care. He’d seen it all, anyway.

He embraced her back, even lifting the arm that held his cane to wrap it around her. His hands were warm against her back and he planted soft, soothing kisses in her hair. The silk of his shirt felt nice against her bare breasts. He had disposed of his jacket and tie at some point, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow. Belle buried her nose against his open collar, the first two buttons undone, exposing the black undershirt beneath. She inhaled his cologne, filling her nostrils and mouth with nothing but his clean, musky scent. A little hint of their earlier joining still clung to him and she was surprised to feel her nipples perk, the space between her legs growing hot and damp.

They stood like that for several minutes until Belle felt ready to back away. She offered him a wan smile and knelt to retrieve the robe from the floor, bringing her almost face to face with his groin. He was quite obviously aroused, the hard line of his cock straining against the fine fabric. She licked her lips and looked up at him pointedly. But he backed away as Belle extended a hand toward him.

“Dinner,” he croaked. “Come on. Up you go.” He offered a hand and Belle took it. Once she was on her feet, she put on the robe, studying him quizzically.

Thaddeus ignored the look she was giving him and sent her off to the dining room where he had set the table and poured her some iced tea.

He knew she must be a little confused. It wasn’t like him to turn down the opportunity to feel her mouth on him. And she’d clearly been offering. But a quick bj in his laundry room was not how he wanted this evening to play out. Tonight was all about Belle. What she wanted, what she needed. And what he could do to keep her happy. At least for the night.

At least until she realized what a selfish beast he really was.


	9. Almost as Good

Dinner was quiet in a surprisingly comfortable way. To look at Thaddeus Gold, most people probably pictured his dining room as austere and very proper with a long wooden table and at least six forks. Belle might have even thought as much if she hadn’t had several dinners a year in the Gold house since she was 8. Usually she and Neal ate in the kitchen or the on trays in front of the television. Occasionally they had a picnic in the backyard. But she had shared a few meals on the circular rosewood table of Mr. Gold’s dining room. Like most of his furniture, it was an antique. It was polished to a shine by the maid service that came every other week, and set with woven placemats that shimmered with inlaid golden threads. At the center was an ornate vase with fresh flowers. Tonight it was calla lilies in white and varying shades of pink.

Thaddeus had dimmed the overhead light (also an antique but modernized to work with electricity) and lit a few candles, placing them around the room. The overall effect was cozy and entirely inviting. A small part of Belle’s mind considered the man might have missed a calling as an interior decorator. The larger part of her focus was on exactly why he seemed to be going to all this trouble.

The obvious answer was that he was actually trying to seduce her. Considering he’d already been inside of her once tonight and then turned down her offer of oral sex, it didn’t quite make sense.

He insisted she remain seated, curled up in his big soft robe, while he served the dinner. Once both plates had been served, Thaddeus took his seat and they happily dug in. He’d made some sort of fancy hamburger and sweet potato fries sprinkled with parmesan.

Belle reminded herself not to wolf it down. She might be in a robe, not a cocktail dress, but Mr. Gold’s elegant manners seemed to expect at least some reciprocation. It was not easy. The second time she managed to squirt herself (and thereby his robe) with the dark, sticky balsamic reduction, she saw Thaddeus try to hide a smile behind his napkin.

She huffed aloud. “How do you make it look so damn easy?” she demanded.

“What?” he asked.

“Eating like that. Without getting a thing on you. Look… not a spot. It makes me want to squirt you with ketchup.” Her mouth twisted.

This time, Thaddeus did not bite back his laugh. “Practice, darling. That’s all. I’ve had to attend an awful lot of very dull dinners where there was nothing else to focus on but eating.”

“Well, I’ve been eating my whole life and I still have a leaky chin or something. I’ve ruined more blouses…” She sighed, looking down at the balsamic stain. “Speaking of… Sorry about your robe.”

Thaddeus smiled, indulgently. “It’ll wash. I just hope you’re enjoying the bites that do make it to your mouth.”

Belle glared at him but it dissolved quickly into a giggle at the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I am,” she affirmed, “I’m quite enjoying this. It’s like a gourmet version of everything I like best.”

Thaddeus tried not to beam at her praise. Instead he looked down at his own plate. “Yes, I think I’ll try this again, sometime. It, uh, did turn out rather well.”

Belle tilted her head. “You’ve never made it before?”

Caught between having to admit his frantic search for a recipe to impress her and lying about something that seemed so triflingly unimportant, Thaddeus merely shrugged.

She sat back in her seat and gave a low whistle. “Now I think I’m doubly impressed. And also doubly envious. Do you know how many tries it to me to make French toast that wasn’t awful? Admittedly, I was 8 and could barely reach the stove….” She launched into an animated tale of her childhood cooking failures, complete with 3 visits from the fire department and the triumph of her first successful quiche.

Thaddeus watched her come to life as she talked, her quick, intelligent gaze flitting from his eyes to his mouth to whatever she was doing with her hands, and then back to him. He relaxed into the cushioned wooden seat, awash in her voice and her enjoyment of the retelling. They laughed together and before long, she was asking him about his own kitchen disasters. He found himself sharing the time he had managed to turn cookies into charcoal bricks and ended up sending Neal to school with store-bought for the bake sale.

“I remember that bake sale! Neal didn’t even sell the cookies. He put his allowance in the teacher’s bank and just gave them out to everyone who wanted one.” Belle polished off her last fry. “I knew I’d made the right choice in best friends. He saved the last two cookies for us.”

Thaddeus felt a swell of pride for his generous progeny. Even if that generosity had been funded by him. He took a sip of his iced tea (usually he’d have poured them a glass of wine, but as Belle must abstain, so would he). “You know, I always suspected that Neal rather… well, fancied you.” He admitted. It was something that had been nipping at him for some time. Neal was obviously head over heels for Emma (and he quite approved of the choice, though he’d not yet said as much to his son). But if there had ever been a time when Neal and Belle were... he grimaced inwardly to even put the thought to words… it would be helpful to know before he revealed to his son that a baby sister was on the way. As nonchalantly as possible, he prodded “The two of you… it was never…?”

Belle burst out laughing and he felt immediately quite foolish for having breached the subject at all. “Me? And Neal? Oh God, no! I mean he’s the closest friend I’ve ever had but we’ve never been… Oh wow, have you been worried about that this whole time?” Belle covered her mouth as she gave an unladylike snort. “Oh man… That would have been weird, huh?”

Thaddeus’ cheeks burned and he hung his head. He felt ashamed for both his concern and subsequent relief at her frank admission. After a moment, Belle reached out and touched his hand where it lay on the table.

“Hey. Thaddeus?”

He looked up.

“When it comes to the Gold men, you’re the one who’s always done it for me.” She grinned, sweetly this time, her mirth gentling to a warm affection.

He swallowed and allowed himself a tremulous smile. “Am I a terrible father if I say I’m glad?”

Belle shook her head, trying not to ruin the mood by conjuring up images of her own erstwhile disaster of a father. “I wouldn’t even know how to judge something like that… but I think, judging by how Neal has turned out, that you must be a pretty good one.”

Her voice was soft, her eyes softer. His hand turned over to entwine with hers. Belle lost herself in that delicate moment, adrift in the warmth of his golden-brown eyes. She realized how badly she wanted him to close the short distance between them and kiss her. How badly she wanted to spend the night with him, not just in his house but in his arms. As though this could all be real. As though it meant something. And she knew it wasn’t wise and she knew it couldn’t last. But she had never wanted anything so badly….

 _She thought he was a good father._ Thaddeus was overcome with a surge of pure emotion. And he knew. He had to tell her. Belle would understand. She might not even mind so much… She might… Perhaps they could… He opened his mouth, just trying to find the right words…

“Take me to bed?” she whispered, almost not believing she’d said it aloud.

Thaddeus’ mind went blank. The words he’d been grasping for dying on his lips at the heat in Belle’s steady gaze, that fervent request. How could he not obey such a plea? For once she wasn’t asking him to take her mind off of something else, to soother her ache or help her forget. This was just him and her and a whole night unfurling before them. Confessions and admonishments could wait until morning. And morning was a long, long way off.

He nodded dumbly, squeezing her hand within his. His other hand blindly groped until it found his cane handle. He pushed himself to his feet.

Belle followed, her face pink and eyes sparkling.

Before they even made it to the hallway, she had pulled him in for a kiss. She pulled away with a jubilant giggle and gave chase until they reached the stairway. There, she let him catch her, closing her in with her back to the wall as he traced the line of her neck with his tongue. He pulled the robe aside and peppered the exposed skin with kisses.

“Not sure I can do it standing up at this point, love.” Belle murmured, completely unaware of the endearment that had slipped past her lips as her body arched into Thaddeus’ delectable ministrations.

Thaddeus raised his head from between her breasts. “Good point. Not sure I’m up to kneeling on the parquet, as it is.”

Belle raised an eyebrow at the insinuation. “Well then… Shall we go upstairs?”

“Absolutely.” Thaddeus growled, tucking her against his side as they ascended the staircase.

Once there, they kissed and fondled their way down the dark hallway until Thaddeus pushed in his door. Belle followed. He leant his cane against the wall by the door after kicking it shut behind them. Framing her face with both hands, he kissed her deeply, exploring her mouth at leisure and stroking her tongue with his. Her skin felt too hot under the soft robe and she fussed with the knot at her waist. He playfully batted her hands away, breaking the kiss to smile at her.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to do that…”

Belle bit her lip and nodded, letting her hands fall to her sides.

The tip of his tongue just gracing his lower lip, Thaddeus tugged loose the snarled mess she’d made of the sash. Once it was undone, he smoothed his hands over the edges and pushed them past her shoulders. The fabric pooled at her feet. Her nipples, already taut and aching with need, tightened further in the chill night air.

He cupped both breasts in his hands, enjoying the new heft and fullness of them. Lowering his mouth, he teased one sensitive nipple with his tongue and Belle’s head fell back with a soft sound of enjoyment. With lips, tongue, and teeth he worshipped her breasts, letting his hands explore her body. His fingers whispered up and down her spine, kneaded the firm flesh of her backside. His palms eased over her swollen belly, feeling a little shifting movement as he did so. He paused there a moment, bending further to plant open mouth kisses down to her bellybutton and back up.

When he chanced a look at Belle’s face, her half-lidded gaze was intent and thoughtful. He wanted to ask what she was thinking but the timing seemed less than ideal. His cock throbbed as though in agreement. He ignored his own arousal, intent on making Belle scream before seeking any satisfaction for himself.

Belle’s skin was on too tight and she felt longing like she had never felt before. Every touch of his lips ignited new waves of desire. But rather than the urgency of their backroom couplings, she wanted every little sensation to last. She wanted to commit each second to memory in crystal clarity. His hands, his mouth. And especially the way he was looking at her right now.

With a touch to her waist, Thaddeus backed her slowly toward the mattress until she felt the edge of it hit the backs of her knees. She sat automatically, looking up at him. He brushed her hair affectionately and leaned over to grab some pillows. Two of them, he propped behind her, urging her to scoot back on the bed a bit. The third pillow, he dropped at her feet, lowering himself to kneel on it.

He had done this once or twice before but his bed was much softer than the cot (or, once, the counter) and the pillows propped her at a better angle to actually watch him. She liked that thought, being able to look down and see Thaddeus Gold between her thighs, his face buried in her cunt. She had never told him that he was the first man to ever put his mouth on her, there. She had a sneaking suspicion that the bar had been set very, very high in that regard.

Belle gasped aloud as she felt his hot breath across her sex. Oh _God_ yes. He’d barely touched her and she was already quivering. Just the tip of his tongue traced her nether lips before flicking over her clit. Her legs spread wider as she canted her hips, greedy for sensation. He obliged, circling her sensitive pearl with a firmer touch until she was whimpering. Just as his lips closed over the fleshy nub and suckled, she felt his fingers at her entrance, She cried out as he slowly delved one then two fingers within her depths, crooking them to hit that oh so sensitive spot. Her hands buried in his hair and her head fell back as her bliss washed over her in waves.

As she was coming down from her orgasm, Thaddeus was still teasing her, his warm wet mouth and clever fingers prolonging the pleasure. Unexpectedly, a second peak hit and she moaned his name. He looked up, eyes glinting with desire and pride and… Something else she feared putting a name to.

“Please…” she begged him.

He drew his lips reluctantly from her. “What do you need, sweetheart?”

“You.” It was all she could manage. A single syllable that held a world of meaning.

Thaddeus felt his as though his heart would burst within his chest. This was so much more than simple desire. He’d been a fool to ever deny it. There would be repercussions in the morning. There always were. But those could wait. For now, Belle needed him.

And that was almost as good as love.


	10. Safe Space

He’d made love to her very gently that night. It was nothing like any encounter they had shared before. There was a sweetness to it, a longing. And that was far more dangerous than any game they’d played, so far.

Because waking up in his arms, pleasantly sore, was not a luxury she could afford to get used to.

Her bladder reminded her that it was time to get up and she reluctantly shifted out of his embrace. Rolling to a sitting position, she glanced behind her. He was still fast asleep, his face slack and softened in the shuttered morning light. He looked more peaceful than she’d ever have imagined and her heart gave a sharp, painful twinge.

She clenched her hands into fists, letting her nails dig into her palms. The distraction did nothing. With a shaky breath, she allowed herself to think that very dangerous thought that had been lurking at the back of her mind for weeks. That tableau her imagination painted of a life that could have been. Two parents, deliriously in love, with a gurgling Thornlet cuddled between them. Or whatever their daughter’s name might be, once she was born.

A family. Something Belle, herself, had hardly known and could barely remember.

But Thaddeus had shown so little interest in their child. And one tender night did not an appropriate relationship make. Everything else between them and surrounding this baby was fucked. Neal might never forgive either of them. The town would be in uproar over seeing her take up with the feared and loathed Mr. Gold. She didn’t care what they thought of her, never had. She was strange enough in their eyes, herself. And she was fine with that. She’d lived with it for years. A child, on the other hand… Thornlet would suffer the consequences of her parents’ respective reputations.

Belle had seen it happen at school and heard the gossip around town. The sins of the father and so on… She could see herself moving away from this provincial place, but to ask Thaddeus to uproot his whole life… Even if he had _wanted_ a baby with her, how could she ask such a thing? She was young, feckless, and fancy-free once school was done. She had very few ties to Storybrooke (two of them being in this house). She could just leave. Travel. See the world.

Thaddeus Gold was an institution in Storybrooke. He even seemed to enjoy the reputation he held, smugly ruling the town with an iron fist. Even the Mayor was afraid of him, though she tried not to show it.

Belle sighed and rose to her feet, shuffling off to the bathroom before Thornlet could wake up and kick her into an accident.

After she’d taken care of nature’s call, she debated on her next move. She was too awake to climb back into the big warm bed. But just walking out the door after the night they had shared seemed… cold. Even for the non-relationship between them. She remembered that there was a French press in the kitchen and wondered if she could find the coffee for it. It was worth a shot. After all, Thaddeus had made her dinner. Might be a nice return gesture to have fresh coffee prepared when he got up.

Pulling on the robe she had discarded the night before, she opened the bedroom door and slipped out. The house was almost disturbingly still as she stepped into the hallway. She looked around, having never been in this part of the house before. There was a big window to her left and another room directly in front of her, with the door open a few inches. She hadn’t noticed that, last night. She had been rather… distracted. Her face flushed with delicious memory.

Curious, she gave the open door a little push. And her heart stuttered in her chest.

There, in a nice airy room with two big windows, sat an antique crib, a carved wooden toy chest, and a rocking chair. Pushed in the corner she saw stacks of diapers and a car seat. Against the nearest wall was a tarp with reams of wallpaper and other decorating supplies beside it. The design was clearly for a nursery.

Belle’s mouth had dropped open at some point. She wasn’t sure when. Her blood was rushing in her ears and her hands had gone cold, hanging limp at her sides.

_The bastard._

_The absolute fucking bastard._

How long had he been planning this? Had it been from the very start? How could those lips have kissed her so sweetly after telling her nothing but lies?

She felt sick.

She felt dizzy.

Without thinking, she sunk into the rocking chair. It was beautiful and well cushioned, gleaming wood and chocolate brown velvet. She clutched the arms with a white-knuckled grip, her mind spinning. Thaddeus had intended to sit here with their child – with _her_ daughter – and rock her to sleep. Feed her. Tend to her needs and hold her close.

Belle bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and surveyed the room. Oh yes, a little girl would be very happy to have such a lovely room. So spacious and well lit. There was even a built in window seat. A little nook for reading. A sob escaped her then, picturing her sweet little daughter, curled up with a favorite book, perhaps a kitten or a puppy by her side. She had no doubt that Thaddeus would indulge the child. He had done so with Neal. Though he’d never spoiled his son – at least not by all appearances – Thaddeus was a doting father.

But he was also a horrible, devious liar. A liar who had held her close to him in his sleep, breathing her in. A liar who had tended to her so ardently and yet so gently just the night before. Who had prepared a special dinner for her…

But had it ever been for her? The kindness, the doctor’s visits, buying her new clothes. It truly had been part of his investment, after all. Only his stake was much higher than a percentage of the adoption fee. Like a fairy tale villain, he had wooed her and tricked her, planning all the while to steal her child.

A child she was already planning not to keep. A child she had never meant to want. Was it theft if the baby was already being offered up to someone else? Belle would never have been the one to sit in such a chair for midnight feedings. She would never snuggle up with Thornlet in such a window nook and read aloud from The Wind in the Willows.

Her tears fell freely, now. She didn’t even bother to wipe them away. She let them blot out the vision of this perfect room. This perfect life that wasn’t – couldn’t be – hers.

But her vision was not so obscured that she could not see the man, himself, darken the doorway.

Heart in his throat, Thaddeus watched his latest nightmare unfold.

He had woken alone. The bed was still warm on Belle’s side (and he tried not to read much into the fact he had mentally assigned her a side). She wasn’t in the bathroom so perhaps she’d gotten hungry…. And then he had remembered. He’d left the nursery door open.

Haphazardly pulling on a button down and trousers, he had gone to look for her, the dread already etched deep in his bones. She had found it.

In fact, she was sitting in the antique rocking chair, her tearstained face a mask of hurt and rage. He didn’t have the slightest idea what to say.

How could he? What could he possibly say to her, now?

That he’d never intended to hurt her? Was that even true?

At the beginning of all this, he’d thought only of the child she carried. It was rightfully his. His second chance after the baby he’d lost. He’d thought very little of how Belle might feel – she was abandoning the child, anyway. She was the one offering it up for adoption. He knew he was a good father. If he’d done nothing else right in his life, Neal was living proof that he could be a loving parent. His attraction to Belle had been… a distraction. A weakness. An indulgence, perhaps.

And he had told himself that she was getting what she needed from it just as much as he was. A justification that he knew would never hold up under scrutiny. _Tell yourself you’re doing the right thing long enough and you might just believe it…_

He knew he was already a monster. There had been no need to make her believe otherwise, at the time. And yet… in the moments they had been spending together, something had shifted. He found that he craved her company and conversation just as much as her touch. His eyes would seek her out in a crowd, unbidden. His heart would race when she was near. And last night, when she had been so helpless, his first thoughts had not been of their unborn child.

They had been of Belle. And, gaining this child, how much he now realized he had to lose.

He had known, in that moment, that he had somehow fallen hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Belle. Baby or no baby. And now she would know that he was nothing but a worthless, deceptive beast. He had never deserved her in the first place, but some part of him had begun to hope she could somehow look past that. He had, after all - and against all odds - managed to gain her trust. Perhaps even her affection.

If only he had told her the truth when he had the chance. He’d had so many chances. As always, his cowardice won out every time. The words turned to ash in his mouth and he swallowed them down with all the other bitterness.

Now it was too late.

“Belle,” he managed weakly, taking a step toward her.

“Don’t,” she spat through gritted teeth. “Don’t you dare try to placate me.” She rose from the chair slowly, radiating wrath from every pore. “How. Fucking. Could. You.”

He splayed his hands in a sign of surrender. “Belle, please. I always meant to tell you.”

“When? After I’d handed her over in the hospital? After I’d signed the adoption papers? Were you planning to carry on this charade until I’d gone away to college?” She shook her head. “How can I believe a word you tell me, now? Why should I? You’re a liar. And what’s worse, you let me think that I could trust you! That we… that you… and that I… How the fuck could you do this?”

His hands dropping, balling into fists at his sides. His gut twisted as he tried not to react to her anger. Let her take her due. She was owed so much more than a pound of flesh. “It… I was… You wanted the baby to go to a good home. I can give her a good home, Belle. I swear it.”

Belle’s brow furrowed. “And that is supposed to make up for the deceitful way you went about it? For…. For seducing me into thinking that you were on my side. That –“

“Seducing you?” he repeated, incredulously, his eyes going wide. “I will apologize for having handled the adoption poorly, but, Belle… I was not the one to seek you out for – ”

“Oh don’t you bloody dare!” she shouted, feeling her cheeks go hot. “Fucking you was my decision. But you’ve been playing along for months, all the while pretending to… pretending that you were just doing me a goddamn favor! Like this was just another of your deals. But then you act like… as though…” She faltered, thinking of the quiet tenderness they had shared. Where had that fit into his plan? Just another way to stay in her good graces? God, she didn’t even know what was real, anymore.

His lips pressed into a thin line. “I am not a good man and I’ve never laid claim to be. What did you really expect of me?”

“Better!” she rejoined. “I expected better. Because I’ve seen you with Neal over the years. I know you can be gentle and kind. And loving. I know there is goodness somewhere in that twisted husk you call a heart!”

“Really?” he scoffed, temper flaring. “And by exactly what standard were you judging that? Because I know enough about your home life to know ‘good father’ isn’t exactly a difficult role to fill.” He regretted the words the moment they left his lips.

Belle’s reaction was immediate. She closed the space between them and slapped him for the second time in their acquaintance. “Go to Hell, Thaddeus.”

Before he could even attempt to apologize, she had pushed past him and locked herself into Neal’s bathroom.

Thaddeus slumped against the doorframe, depleted.

In the bathroom, Belle pulled on the clothing she had left there as quickly as she could with numb, trembling fingers. She couldn’t even think right now. This whole thing was such a fucking mess. She needed to get out, get away. Because even knowing Thaddeus was on the other side of that door with that stricken look on his face, made everything a million times worse.

Luckily he was not in the hallway when she left the bathroom. She bounded down the stairs, Thornlet now fully awake and kicking painfully. Her daughter clearly didn’t like the way her heart was pounding away. Well, that made two of them.

Thaddeus had gone to the kitchen to make coffee. At least it would keep his hands busy. When he heard Belle on the stairs, he hesitated only a moment before edging into the hall. She spotted him as her hand landed on the front door’s handle and she paused.

“Belle, I….” his cheek stung but his anger had gone completely. He deserved so much more than a slap in the face. Not one to disappoint, Belle delivered a far more painful parting blow.

“You could have just asked.” Her eyes slid away from him, red-rimmed and puffy but no longer damp. “I’d have said yes.”

And with that, she left, slamming the door behind her.  


	11. Nowhere to Run To

Belle had stormed away, fuming, before she could really think about where she might go. She was technically homeless, now. And 7 months pregnant. And beyond furious at the father of her child, who, in turn, was also of the father of her best friend. A friend who would probably hate her once she told him the truth.

If she told him the truth.

Oh God, she was no better than Thaddeus.

With a gasping sob, she head for the only place she knew she could find peace for her spinning thoughts; the library.

Storybrooke library had been abandoned years ago, but they had never actually cleared out all the books. Some had been sold off to raise the money to keep it open. But the effort had been unsuccessful. So, it sat all boarded up but still almost fully stocked. As though it was just resting its eyes for a moment and would return to life at any moment. Of course Belle and Neal had found the back way in years ago.

She was afraid at first that she wouldn’t be able to squeeze past the loose plank, anymore. Luck was on her side, they had moved it aside so many times in the past, it merely swung over, now.

Once she was sheltered and surrounded by the musty smell of old paper, Belle felt a little more herself. The school library was serviceable, but it was mostly textbooks and assigned reading. Here, there was a little bit of everything. When they were children, she and Neal had found an old atlas and used it to decide on their pretend adventures.

They had travelled the world together without ever leaving Storybrooke.

Belle’s chin dropped to her chest and she sank into a creaky chair that stood next to the Romance section. The one she usually used as a stepstool.

It was all too much. Her father. The baby. The fucking Mother Superior sitting in holy judgment. Neal’s kindness, when she knew he’d be nearly as devastated by the secret she was keeping from him as she was right now. And now this.

She covered her face with both hands and groaned as loudly as she dared within the slightly echoing walls.

Yelling at Thaddeus hadn’t made her feel any better. In fact it had only made things far worse. Because his lips might lie but the hurt in his eyes was all too real. And that had been the worst of it all, really. Because in that moment, she had been so angry, she’d lashed out, knowing it would only hurt him. Knowing that this, whatever this was between them, might be too broken to ever mend. And she’d wanted to dash it to pieces, destroy the whole thing and make him feel what she felt. Betrayal.

It didn’t feel like victory or vindication when she watched his face crumple under the weight of her words. All she’d done is take the knife he’d put in her back and use it to stab herself in the heart.

How bloody Shakespearean, she mused, with a wry watery laugh. Why did it have to be so fucking complicated? Why did she have to want things that she knew were…

But want them she did. And the knowledge of that had been looming in her mind for some time. A steady itch that she pushed away and ignored because it was too inconvenient to acknowledge. There was no point in denying it, now. Not when they’d been brought to this.

She was in love with him. And with their child.

It was ridiculous and stupid and probably a life ruining move to make. But she was fucked because she loved this baby in her belly and the awful, deceitful man that put it there so much it was nearly killing her.

Thornlet gave a series of fluttering kicks and her hands flew to her belly.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry that Mommy is making you feel these things, right now. I know you don’t understand. Hell, I’m not even sure I do.” She sighed and stroked her taut skin, humming a little to try and calm herself. All this stress, it couldn’t be good for the baby. And whether she ended up keeping Thornlet or not, it was important that her daughter be as healthy and happy as she could make her.

Someone ought to be, in this crazy situation.

Belle wiped away her tears with the edge of her sleeve and fumbled in her pocket for a tissue. Once she’d taken a few deep breaths, things were starting to feel less like a crisis. She was young but she wasn’t without resources. She’d been practically on her own for so long, now. She’d handled every bump along the road to adulthood. She could handle this too.

Thornlet began to settle.

“Good girl,” she murmured, still stroking over the curve of her stomach through her sweater. “We’re gonna be, okay, you and me. I promise. Mommy promises. Just need to figure out what to do next.”

When it came right down to it, the choice was still hers to make. What did she really want?

She wanted to forget any of today had ever happened. She wanted to storm out of town and never speak Thaddeus’ name again. She wanted to forgive him and fall melodramatically into one another’s arms. She wanted a million things. But she had to choose. Only one course of action among a million paths not taken. How did she want this story to end?

***

For a moment after Belle left, Thaddeus had been too stunned to move.

_I’d have said yes_

All this. All the lying and ridiculous manipulations. It all could have been prevented if he’d only had the courage to bloody ask her. He’d been so sure, when she first told him about the pregnancy. So certain she’d want him to have nothing to do with their child. She’d gone and made the decision to have it adopted without so much as a word to him.

Their mercurial encounter in that alleyway, the one he still had dreams about that left him hard and aching, had convinced him that he’d no business being a part of this. That Belle did not want him involved. She’d only grudgingly agreed to the let him handle the adoption – how could he have thought that she’d ever consent to letting him keep the baby?

But he hadn’t asked. He’d been so afraid of hearing the word “no” that he’d simply taken matters into his own hands. In order to circumvent what he saw as inevitable rejection, he’d manage to completely fuck up his chances.

With a growl, he reared back and punched the nearest wall. Twice. Three times. Pain shot through his clenched fist and he fell back against the opposite wall. He dropped his cane to cradle the injured hand against his chest. The pain felt almost good. Like a deserved punishment. At the same time, he knew it was a fucking stupid thing to do and he’d be lucky if he hadn’t broken any fingers. The brunt force of the blow had dented the siding. One more thing to explain to Neal when he got home from the camping trip.

That and the fact that Belle wasn’t…

Thaddeus looked up from the raw skin over his knuckles. Oh Fuck. There was an 18 year old girl, 7 months pregnant with his child running around without a coat in this weather. And she had nowhere to go. Swearing loudly, he stooped to grab his cane, nabbed two coats from the rack by the door and took off after her. It couldn’t have been more than 5 or 10 minutes, surely she wasn’t moving that fast, these days…

He looked either way down his street but there was no sign of her chestnut hair.

He swore again and went to his car. There was no way he would make it across town on foot but if he drove slowly, perhaps he’d catch sight of her somewhere. There was no school today, so he doubted she’d be there but it was worth checking. Clearly something had happened with her father but perhaps she’d gone to patch things up. It seemed the most obvious place to start, however distasteful he might find the man.

With grim determination, he set a course for Game of Thorns.

Moe was idling behind the counter as Thaddeus approached. The older man’s eyes narrowed. “Ain’t rent day, yet, Mr. Gold. I told you I’d have it in full this month.”

Thaddeus pressed his lips together. “Not here about the rent, French. I’m looking for Belle.”

Moe’s mouth twisted. “What the fuck you want with her?”

As he got closer, Thaddeus could smell the cheap whiskey. It wafted off the man in waves. He did not hold back his look of disgust. “Is she here or not?”

“No. And she’s not fucking welcome here, anymore.”

Thaddeus’ hand throbbed as he clenched it, forcing down the urge to do to Moe what he’d just done to his own wallpaper. Through gritted teeth, he replied. “Fine,” and turned to leave. Unable to stop himself completely, he muttered, “some bloody father.”

“What’d you say to me, Gold?” Moe came around the other side of the register. He had a few years on Thaddeus but also almost a head in height.

Thaddeus sniffed, “Nothing. I prefer not to converse with Neanderthals.”

Moe’s face went scarlet and he strode over to where Thaddeus stood, fists clenched at his sides. “I know you own this bloody town, but you don’t fucking scare me, Gold. You think you can talk to people that way –“

Thaddeus whirled to face him. “I think I can talk to _you_ that way, French. Because people like you, people who would kick their own flesh and blood to the curb, deserve nothing better.” He advanced on the bigger man, rage darkening his face to a menacing mask. Moe’s eyes went wide as he backed away. “Someone who would abandon a child in their care, leave her to fend for herself for 10 years for so they can lose themselves in a bottle… Oh, Moe French, you deserve so much less than nothing. Do you think I gave you extensions on your lease for this place out of the goodness of my heart? Because I cared for your plight? I gave them because Belle French needed a place to stay. But you’ve just severed that little connection, haven’t you?”

Moe swallowed thickly, raising his hands between them in a defensive posture. “You don’t know what she’s gone and done, Gold. I’d take her back if only she’d tell me the truth. That’s all. I just wanted –“

“I don’t give a fuck about what you wanted!” Thaddeus snarled, his grip on his cane so tight his knuckles creaked. “You don’t get to want anything. Not from Belle French. Not ever again, after the way you’ve treated her. You had her love and you squandered it. You pathetic, miserable waste of a man.”

Moe gulped in air, his eyes going red with tears rather than drink for once. He opened and closed his mouth but no sound came out.

Thaddeus left him like that and head to the door. Once there he turned one more and smiled his nastiest smile. “See you on Rent Day, French.”

His blood was roaring in his ears as he drove away from the flower shop. That scum had barely been worth the vitriol he’d released. But he knew, on some level, that it hadn’t been for Moe French anyway. After the way he’d treated Belle, he was the last person to say who deserved her love.  

Still… he had to at least find her. Make sure she was safe, even if she never wanted anything else to do with him.

He spent the rest of the day cruising the town, keeping a sharp eye and asking those who might have seen her pass by. He was on the receiving end of more than a few confused looks, but he soldiered on. Hang what the town might think. All that mattered was Belle’s safety. Belle and the baby. Their daughter.

Tears still pricked the backs of his eyes when he let his mind linger on that too long. He focused on the search, throwing all of his energy into that rather than linger on the pain of yet another loss.

Another loss that was his own bloody fault.

“Fuck!” he growled, pounding his good hand against the steering wheel. “Fuck,” he repeated, letting his chin drop to his chest as he pulled the parking break in his driveway. It was getting dark and he’d seen hide no hair of his erstwhile young lover.

Were they lovers? Was that even the right word to use?

It didn’t matter, anymore. She clearly didn’t want to be found.

His hand still hurt but all the digits were operational, so he surmised that nothing was actually broken. He held it up and stared at it until his vision blurred and he realized that he was crying. The tears were hot on his cheeks, drying quickly in the chilly air. The heat generated in the car had dissipated. He shivered.

How long had he been sitting in his driveway? The sun was starting to set and some ridiculous, poetic part of him found that a perfect metaphor as his mood sank still further.

There was a snifter of brandy in the house that was beginning to call his name. He pulled his keys from the ignition and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard something rapping on the window.

Outside the car, Belle stood wrapped in her winter coat, bouncing a little on her toes. She must have gone back to her father’s home at some point, after all.

Gold gaped at her, cursing himself a greater fool for not having simply waited at Moe’s to see if she’d return.

She gave a grim, humorless smile. “Hey.”

He swallowed. “Hey.”

She glanced over at his house and then back at him. “Um. It’s cold out here. Can we… can we go inside?”

Something that felt disturbingly like hope blossomed in his chest. “Absolutely,” he breathed.


	12. The Truth will Set You Free

Belle stood by the front door as Thaddeus locked it behind them. When he turned, they stared at one another for a long moment. Someone ought to speak first but neither knew exactly what to say. At length, Belle caved, driven by the need to know.

 “Why?” she demanded, softly.

“Why?” he echoed.

Belle’s mouth was a thin line. “Do you really need me to elaborate?”

He shook his head, seeming to shrink in on himself. “I… I tried to find you,” he admitted in a small voice.

A corner of her mouth quirked for a second before dropping once more. “Yeah. I heard. Moe was pretty shaken. He said I could come back to the house.” She looked away. “I think he thinks Neal is the father.”

Thadddeus’ shoulders hunched. “It would make more sense.”

Belle looked at him sharply. “I told you we never…”

“I know,” he raised both hands in a gesture of defeat. “Where were you?” The question was asked gently, inquisitive but undemanding.

Belle released a long breath. “The old library.”

Thaddeus’ brow furrowed. “It’s been boarded up for… ”

“I know the back way in. Neal and I used to go there as kids. When you thought we’d gone to the park.”

“Oh,” Thaddeus wasn’t sure what to make of this. He frowned. “You must have been freezing…”

Belle shrugged. “It wasn’t so bad. Kept me out of the wind. Gave me a quiet place to think.” she took a step closer. “I want to know why you lied to me.” She crossed her arms as best she could over her chest. “What the hell even was that contract I signed?”

He took a step back, his gaze dropping. “You read it. It was a simple agreement, allowing me to find a suitable home for your child. And turning over your custodial rights to said parent.” He looked back up, his gaze pleading. “This is a suitable home, Belle. You cannot deny that.”

“You lied to me,” Belle repeated, firmly.

“Technically…. no. I never said that I was _not_ a potential candidate – ”

“It’s fraud.”

“Misdirection.”

“I could have you disbarred,” Belle moved toward him again. This time, he did not back away.

He hesitated, his face unreadable. “Providing you could prove it in court… yes, it’s a possibility. It’s a risk I was willing to take.”

Belle gaped at him, incredulous. “Why? Why bloody mislead – sorry, _misdirect_ –  me at all? Why didn’t you just _ask_ me for custody?”

“And when the hell would I have done that?” he demanded, temper flaring. “When we were having an angry shag in an alley or when you showed up at my shop with the decision already made? At what point was I to believe I’d have any chance of you even _considering_ me?” He ran his free hand through his hair. “I know I went about this all wrong. I’ll own that and I am truly sorry. But what choice did I have?” He looked at her despairingly, his voice rising and his breath was coming short. “Christ, what was I supposed to think, Belle? You clearly didn’t want me involved from day one. And I wanted to respect your fucking decision. I did. But I was not about to lose a child because of it. Not again.”

It hit Belle like a blow. Oh God, he was right. She’d been so focused on taking care of the… problem, she’d nearly left him out of it, completely. It had been just her, all on her own, for so long. So very long. Thaddeus had been kind to her, but in her mind, he’d still been just another man in her life designed to let her down. That’s what men did. That’s what fathers did.

Just like that, the last of her anger turned to dust and blew away. She’d never for a second considered herself as anything but the wronged party. So much so that she’d been blinded to the man in front of her.

Then something else struck her and she looked at him curiously. “Again? What do you mean?”

Thaddeus’ mouth dropped open. He hadn’t meant to say that aloud. He swallowed hard and shook his head. “Nevermind.”

Belle was ready to pursue when her low back gave a painful twinge. She winced and rubbed at it with one hand.

Thaddeus’ eyes were all concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just not much for standing around, these days,” she gave a wry smile.

“Oh shite, I’m sorry. I should have thought of that. Here, let’s go sit down…” He moved out of the way so she could walk past him.

“Um, let’s go to the living room, not the parlor. Bit too much history, there.”

Thaddeus felt his face get hot. “Right.” He led the way to the living room. It was a wide, comfortable space. Neal usually sprawled on the big plush sofa with his friends to watch movies or play video games on the enormous television. Thaddeus rarely spent time there without his son.

Belle eased onto the low sofa, sinking into the worn cushions. With some effort, she had maneuvered both feet onto the seat next to her. On instinct, Thaddeus produced a cushion to put under them. Belle sighed her relief as he slid the pillow under her feet. “Thank you. That’s much better.”

“Anything else you need? Some water?”

She shook her head, studying him calmly. “Will you sit with me?”

“Of course.” Delighted to stay, he lowered himself onto the sofa, just past her feet. It was a wide thing and she was awfully wee, only took up two of the three cushions.

Belle swallowed hard. “Look. I wanted to say… That I’m sorry. You’re right and I shouldn’t have shut you out like I did. You didn’t deserve that.” A pause. “No one does.”

Thaddeus felt his mouth drop open. “Belle, I wasn’t trying to… you don’t need to apologize.”

“I do,” she insisted. “Because I… I haven’t always been honest with you, either. And I didn’t treat you….” she took a sharp breath, her lower lip trembling now. “Anyway, I’m sorry.”

He gestured with both hands. “You’ve got all those hormones and you’re so young… Christ Belle, I… I took advantage.”

“You really didn’t. Even when you probably could have. You’ve been…” her face crumpled, “actually really nice.” She dropped her face into both hands. “God, and I’ve even gone and slapped you. Twice.” A sound of frustration, her feet jiggling slightly on the pillow.

Itching to take her in his arms, Thaddeus settled for tentatively caressing the top of one small foot. “Belle… Sweetheart… it’s alright.”

“No. It’s not. Not because you weren’t being a pratt. You definitely were. But because that’s not how people…. Not how civilized people communicate.” She looked up, blotchy and tearstained. “My father used to – I mean, he never hit me – but a smack or two when I was being ‘smart’ or so he called it. Back when he was still trying to be a parent at all.”

Thaddeus’ jaw clenched and he suddenly wished he’d made a much more dire threat to Moe French than a rent increase. “I didn’t know that.”

Belle shrugged, sniffling. “Nobody did. Because I refused to tell anyone. I thought I could fix it. Handle it. Make it all … better.” She tipped her head back. “God, how can I even get mad at you for being a liar when I’ve been one my whole life? I’ve lied to you. To Neal. To all my friends. Even to myself. Told everyone it was fine. That we had food on the table and money in the back. Said I didn’t need… help.” Her head came back up. “Aren’t we a pair?”

Thaddeus took a shaky breath, his hand wrapping lightly around Belle’s ankle, the thumb still idly stroking. “Sweetheart… you were only doing what you thought was best… How could you have known?”

“Exactly! But the thing is, meaning well and doing well... they aren’t always the same thing, are they?” Belle plucked a tissue from the box on the table behind her and blew her nose. “And so here I am 18 and pregnant. Cliché of clichés. I knew I couldn’t be a mother. I knew that this baby – our baby – deserved so much better. She deserves a real family. A real… chance.” Another sob was rising in her throat and she forced it back, “Thaddeus, I _knew_. I was _so sure_ I was doing the right thing.” A pause to swipe at her face with the soggy tissue.

Thaddeus’ grip on her ankle tightened, reflexively. “I’d give anything to make it better. I swear.”

“I’m just… so, so scared,” Belle admitted, unable to meet his eyes, her heart was pounding fit to shatter her breastbone. It was the most honest she’d ever been with another person in her entire life. She felt raw, like an exposed nerve.

 Against all better judgment, not even knowing if he’d still be welcome, Thaddeus rose and knelt carefully by the other end of the sofa. Without a word, he gathered her into his arms. She stiffened at first and then slowly began to melt against him. He could feel her small frame shaking as she wept into the shoulder of his jacket.

Moved to speak, he whispered the truth into her hair. “I’m scared too, Belle. I’m a coward and I’m terrified of losing anything dear to me. It’s why I’m such a selfish beast. It’s why I lied to you. I’ve lost so much and I was afraid… I couldn’t bear to lose her, too."

Belle took a long shuddering breath and pulled away gently. “Tell me what happened?”

His knee protesting violently for having been bent at that position, Thaddeus stood. They rearranged themselves on the sofa. Side by side but not quite touching. Belle twisted another damp tissue in her hands, fixing him with an earnest gaze.

Slowly, haltingly, he told her the story of that horrible night, the car accident that had taken away so much of his life. Belle’s eyes grew wide and round, glinting with fresh tears.

“And I lost her,“ he concluded, voice rasping over unshed tears of his own. “I lost both of them. Because I am… I am the worst kind of man. A coward who could not bring himself to decide.”

Belle reached over and lay one hand atop his. “You may be a liar, Thaddeus. Sometimes, yes, even a bit of a beast. But you are _not_ a coward. You walked through the hospital on a broken leg to be by your wife’s side.” She looked down and then back, something fierce and instinctual flaring inside her. “She was a fool not to see how much you loved her.”

“It wouldn’t have made any difference. She couldn’t forgive me. And she was right. I am… unforgivable.” He felt cold, despite the warmth of Belle’s touch. His chest held an empty ache as he remembered his wife traversing their house like a living ghost. The pain and accusation of every cutting word they shared. He wrapped one hand around hers, an anchor to the present. A reminder that that part of his life was truly over.

Belle made a soft sound and inched closer. “Maybe that’s because you’ve never forgiven yourself.” A sad little smile, “it makes it easier to keep doing unforgivable things, that way, doesn’t it?”

He looked at her sharply.

“Well, doesn’t it?” she repeated. “You’ve convinced yourself that _you’re_ no good in order to justify bad decisions.” She tilted her head to the side. “You’d nearly managed to convince me of it.”

He stared at this unworldly creature, this slip of a girl with the face of an angel and a mind full of wisdom so far beyond her years. After all he’d done and all he’d confessed, she still sat beside him, with softer eyes than he’d ever expected, reading into his soul in that uncanny way of hers.  “I would not blame you,” he admitted. She had done him more service than he deserved just by hearing him out.

Belle gave a watery chuckle. “No. I get that. You’d only keep blaming yourself.” She looked down at their joined hands. “Thank you. For your honesty.”

“Thank you for yours,” he inclined his head.

Belle’s teeth sunk into her lower lip. “Well… aren’t we a pair,” she repeated softly.

He searched her face. “Belle… “

She shook her head, “No more, Thaddeus. Not tonight. I know there’s so much we need to discuss, still but…” she yawned broadly, “Christ, I’m knackered. Aren’t you?”

He had to admit he was. Quietly, he found her an old t-shirt and pair of pajama pants. He made hamburger helper while she showered and they ate in a companionable silence. They ascended the stairs together and at the top, he turned to face her.

“Take my room. It’s more comfortable.”

“Neal offered me his. Even changed the sheets for me,” she grinned, “I saw the note.” Her face sobered, her eyes flicking away, “Anyway, I don’t think…. After last night… things got…. Intense. And I know you were trying to keep me, um, happy. Because of,” she looped an arm loosely over her round stomach, “ because of everything else going on. I wouldn’t be comfortable in that bed, knowing it wasn’t…” She shrugged.

Thaddeus’ brow furrowed. “Wasn’t what?”

“Wasn’t…. real,” she admitted, reluctantly.

He blinked rapidly. _Oh God…. Did she really think…?_ “Belle…. Last night was not about the baby. I mean, I do want to keep you happy, but…” he searched for the right words, “I am… a calculating man. I’ve never promised to be anything else. But when it came to you and me, I would never have used you so cruelly as to… pretend. The time we’ve spent together; I meant it. I’ve always meant it, in one way or another. But last night…last night was my,” he gave a wry chuckle, “perhaps rather clumsy attempt at showing how I’ve come to… how I feel about you.”

Belle gasped lightly. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it. You won’t make things better that way.” Her eyes searched his, that tug of yearning deep in her belly. His face was so dear to her, even after all of this.

He moved in closer, nearly touching her. She could feel his breath across her face.

“Belle… I’ve made so many mistakes. But I don’t think that this,” he gestured between them, “was one of them. Even if tomorrow you decide you hate the sight of me, that it was all a crazy mistake - and you would be justified in doing so. But, for my part, I won’t ever regret a single moment I have spent in your company.”

Her lower lip trembled and he fought the urge to still it with his own lips.

Her eyes locked on his, searching their depths for hidden trickery. As they moved closer, her belly bumped his abdomen and a smile tugged at her lips.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, Thaddeus.”

His heart thumped against his breastbone as Belle’s upturned face moved closer. “Belle… I…”

She shook her head. “Don’t. Don’t say anything else, right now.” She swallowed, her mind playing over a million ways this night could go. She looked down, the confession on the tip of her tongue feeling more intimate than any moment they had shared today. “I liked it when you held me last night. Could we… could we just do that, again? No sex, nothing to prove or take from one another… Just us.”

Thaddeus nodded, his face soft and eyes full of wonder. “Yes. Oh, yes,” he breathed.

They ambled to the bedroom, exchanging shy smiles. He looked away as she undressed, tending to his own clothing. Once they had arranged the pillows and slipped under the sheets, he pulled her close. One arm wrapped around her, the other came to rest on her belly. Their daughter shifted just slightly under his palm and he smiled. Belle’s exhaustion overtook her quickly and her breath went shallow and regular as she relaxed against him.

Thaddeus was torn between his own sleepiness and the desire to stay in this perfect moment for as long as he could be allowed.

In the end, biology won out, but he fell asleep still smiling.


	13. A Brighter Tomorrow

Belle woke to the smell of bacon frying. She blinked groggily, momentarily forgetting where she’d fallen asleep. Then it all came back. They’d talked for hours yesterday, peeling away the layers one by one. She should have felt exposed, a gaping wound. But she didn’t. Finally cracking open all those secrets left her awash in relief. Waking up like this, Thaddeus’ warmth still in the sheets, breakfast cooking below her, Belle felt warm and safe.

She felt loved.

Thornlet gave a decisive kick in the direction of her bladder and Belle rolled to her feet. In the bathroom, as she was washing her hands, Belle caught sight of her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Her hair was a tousled mess and there were shadows below her eyes from all the crying she’d done the day before. Otherwise, she didn’t look so bad. Her skin was creamy and unblemished, her cheeks fuller than she ever remembered seeing them. She’d always been a bit on the thin side, sometimes having to go without meals to keep the bills paid. Since the pregnancy and her arrangement with Thaddeus, he’d insisted on keeping her well-fed. Her friends had been happy to pitch in, bringing her vitamins and supplements. Ariel, who had a bit of an obsession with hair products, had even brought her a fancy organic shampoo and conditioner.

Belle finger-combed her auburn curls, still scented lightly of roses. For someone in her situation, she really had been remarkably lucky. The trouble with her father and the Mother Superior aside, Belle had an unexpectedly welcoming support system in this town. Some of them would be graduating and going away to college, but she knew of at least a few friends who planned to stay local.

And, of course, there was Thaddeus.

He really did care about her, after all. He’d told her so and she fully believed him. No lies or half-truths could stand between them now. Not after the places they had dared to go, last night. It was far from the ideal way to begin a relationship, but there were certainly worse things than falling pregnant and _then_ falling in love. It wasn’t exactly a fairy tale, but then, she was no princess.

Belle studied her face in the morning light. No, not royalty, but she didn’t look like a teenager carrying an unwanted baby anymore, either. She looked like a _glowing_ mother to be. More importantly, she looked like a woman who had just made a very important decision.

She wrapped Thaddeus’ spare robe around herself and left the room. In the hall, she nearly collided with the man, himself.

He started slightly, just barely steadying a tray filled with breakfast foods. The orange juice sloshed a little. Belle made a noise of surprise and he smiled shyly.

“Thought I might bring breakfast up,” he explained, unnecessarily.

Belle’s heart gave a thump and she looked down to hide a silly grin. “Um, oh. Thank you. Should I… should we go back to bed, then?”

“Entirely up to you.” He hefted the tray, “as you can see, breakfast is portable.”

Belle giggled softly. “Will you be joining me?” She looked up to meet his eyes.

He looked so hopeful, it nearly took her breath away. “If you like. I can bring my own up here.”

Belle nodded, “Then bed doesn’t sound so bad.” She went to take the tray from him but he insisted on carrying it to the bedroom and settling it over her legs once she’d arranged herself under the sheets.

He was gone only moments before returning with his own laden tray. They tucked in, quietly. Belle hadn’t realized quite how hungry she was and everything was delicious. If he wasn’t already a pawnbroker and real estate mogul, the man could have rivalled Granny in the restaurant business. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Thaddeus sneaking glances at her as he absentmindedly nibbled scrambled eggs off of his fork.

She turned to look at him full on, “You can talk to me, you know.”

He looked down, guiltily, at his barely touched plate. Despite being a man of words, Belle always left him feeling dumb. He was so afraid of saying the wrong thing, of watching her slip away all over again. He steeled his spine.

 “Belle… I don’t know what your plans are for college but… I want you to know that you will always have a home here, with me.” To keep his hands from shaking, he grabbed the napkin from his tray, twisting it into a familiar shape.

Belle froze, mid-bite. An unexpected lump rose in her throat and this time, it wasn’t from fear or hurt. Safe, she’d thought. She was safe, here. “People would talk, you know. You, me, Neal, and the baby…. all under one roof…. ”

Thaddeus sniffed. “They already do. You may have noticed that I’m not well liked in this town.”

Belle looked contemplative. She’d had a similar thought some time ago. After seeing how her father had reacted to Gold’s visit, it occurred to her that Gold’s reputation may come at a price, but it also presented a few benefits. “Well,” she began, thoughtfully, “they may not like you but they do fear you. I don’t suppose our daughter could ask for better protection than that… It may not be ideal, but I don’t see her coming to harm for it.”

Thaddeus leaned forward, so excited, he nearly crushed the delicate creation in his hands. “ _Our_ daughter?”

“Well, she is, isn’t she?” Belle’s gaze lit on him, soft and warm. He wanted to melt into it and never leave.

Thaddeus realized he hadn’t a single idea what to say, he felt about ready to burst for the sheer joy of Belle’s simple, straightforward admission. Silently, he extended the napkin sculpture with one trembling hand.

Belle looked down to see Thaddeus held a white rose made of twisted napkin. She’d wondered what was keeping his hands so busy over there. It was a little frayed on some edges but altogether rather impressive for a few minutes work. “For me?”

He swallowed, “If you’ll have it.”

She took it with a smile, turning it over and over in her hands. “It’s really lovely. Thank you.” Feeling brave, she shifted closer, placing a kiss just at the corner of his mouth.

Thaddeus’ breath caught. “Belle…” He wanted very badly to kiss her back, full on the mouth. He wanted to run his tongue the length of her neck and palm her heavy breasts. But things were still so uncertain between them. He had no right to take such liberties anymore, until he’d been officially invited. He shifted, grateful for the tray over his lap. Pleasures of the flesh could wait. Forever, if Belle so chose. He would quite willingly place all his future happiness in those delicate hands of hers. It was a terrifying but oddly fulfilling thought.

“I’m not going to school right away,” she announced, abruptly, laying back against her pillows and turning her attention back to her plate. It had been a niggling thought for some time. If she was going to keep little Thornlet, even with Thaddeus’ supporting them, school could wait. She’d always longed for an adventure, but she had assumed that meant exotic locations and daring exploits. Yet, motherhood promised to be an adventure all its own. As driven as Belle was to succeed, she could not see herself leaving the baby behind to go away to university.

“No!” Thaddeus said, emphatically. “Belle, you are a brilliant student. Top of your class in almost every subject… I will be here every step of the way to help with the – with _our daughter_. Please don’t feel you need to sacrifice your education…”

Belle shook her head. “I’m not. I’d like to take a little time, that’s all. I still plan to reapply to all the schools that already accepted me. Some places let mothers take their babies to class in a sling or have on-site daycare so I can visit over the course of the day. I’ve been looking it up online,” she admitted the last a bit sheepishly. Even while vociferously swearing she would not be raising Thornlet, some part of her had been planning ahead for that possibility, anyway.

Thaddeus chewed this over. It was, of course, Belle’s decision to make. In a way, there was a great deal of wisdom to it. “Let me know what you need, sweetheart.”

Belle looked at him with such a depth of gratitude, he knew he’d finally said the right thing.

After Thaddeus cleared away the breakfast, he returned to their bed-nest and they hashed over details for some time. Belle would move in to the house and finish high school. Once the baby was born, he would take her to the shop with him during the day until Belle had graduated. Then, she would consider going part time at the local community college or taking a course or two online until their daughter was a little older. After that, she could look at going full time. Hearing her speak only of local schools, Thaddeus found himself frowning. He pondered aloud if there were other options, away from their tiny town.

“You’d leave Storybrooke?” Belle blinked at him, uncertain she’d heard rightly.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “As we’ve mentioned, there’s no love lost between myself and this town. I stayed for Neal. Once he’s got himself established at university, I have nothing tying me here.”

“What about all your properties?”

Thaddeus cleared his throat. It had been an idle thought when the words left his mouth but already ideas were beginning to take form. “There is this remarkable thing called the internet, now. I’m sure I can work it out. I’d have to fly in now and then to check on things, but I wouldn’t miss collecting rent by hand, every month.”

Belle giggled softly. “I always thought you enjoyed striking fear in the hearts of men and women.”

He shrugged, warming more and more to this fantasy of never again having to bear Granny’s scowl, Regina’s sneer, or Clark the pharmacist’s incessant sneezing. “I did, once upon a time. I will admit; it was a bit of a thrill. But, oh, I don’t know. I’m getting older and – perhaps – a tad wiser? I’m beginning to think Machiavelli may not have known everything, after all.” He smiled tentatively at Belle and she returned it ten-fold.

She shifted closer in the bed, so their hips touched and he lifted his arm to tuck her against him. 

“Leave Storybrooke…” She sighed against his shoulder, her voice growing soft and dreamy. “We could build a whole new life together…”

He nodded, his chin brushing her sweetly scented hair. Despite a full night’s sleep, he was beginning to feel slightly drowsy, warm and comfortable as they were. “Anything you want, my love.”

She said nothing to that, already lost in a half-waking dream of new horizons to chase.

***

Belle woke first. It was still light out; the clock on the nightstand told her it was just past noon. They had talked and lazed the morning away. She was snuggled up on his shoulder, still, her belly resting against his side, one of her arms tucked between them. A slow smile curled across her face. Was this what it was supposed to feel like? Being with the man you loved? She rather hoped so.

Beside her, Thaddeus stirred, stretching out his bad leg, as it had stiffened slightly in their doze. He slowly realized that, with Belle laying half atop him, his leg wasn’t the only part of him that had stiffened. Unsure if she was even awake, he tried to politely shift his hips away.

Belle inhaled deeply, sliding her free hand over his chest and pulling him closer. His erection brushed her hip and a pleasant shiver ran down her spine. God, she loved how much he wanted her. His desire for her had not waned one iota, throughout the pregnancy. On days when she felt bloated and swollen and gross, he only ever saw beauty in her. It was one of the few things she’d been able to count on, so far – Thaddeus’ physical response to her nearness. It was as powerful as hers to him.

He took the hint and lay still, allowing her to touch him at her leisure. The pads of her fingers brushed  at his stubble. She traced a finger along his clavicles, just above the collar of his robe. Parting the sides of the robe slightly, her hand traveled across the planes of his chest, one nail just catching each nipple, causing them to tighten. He closed his eyes, enjoying her unhurried exploration. They’d rarely bothered to undress completely. Even on their more tender occasions, there was always that sense of urgency, partly driven by his own guilt.

Belle leaned her head down and planted a kiss just over his heart. She murmured something he didn’t quite catch.

“Hm?”

She looked up, her eyes bright and liquid. “This is how it always could have been, for you and me. Why did we waste so much time?”

Without a thought, he captured her lips. Against them, he whispered. “None of that. The past is done. The future is,” he placed a hand on her belly, “right here.” He moved his hand over her heart, “and here, I hope.”

Belle made a soft, mewling sound and pressed her mouth harder to his. Her hand buried in his hair and he readjusted his limbs to pull her into both arms.

He kissed her back deeply, only pulling away to meet her eyes as his hand toyed with the knot of her robe. “Is… is this alright?” He didn’t want to rush her into anything, no matter how ridiculously tempting she was in his bed.

Belle grinned as her heart gave a distinct flutter “It’s more than alright. I want this. I want you, Thaddeus.”

With a joyful sound, he lay her gently back against the pillows, opening her robe. As he trailed kisses over her chest and down the curve of her stomach, Belle carded her fingers through his hair, caressed his face. She pushed the robe he wore off of his shoulders and he helped her sit up and discard her own.

She languidly stroked his hard length as his tongue traced paths around the circumference of each areola in narrowing circles until he could take each nipple into his mouth. One of his hands found the crease of her thigh, dipping a fingertip downward until it met her needy sex. He gathered her own wetness and teased her hooded clit, making her shunt her hips toward his hand. He slid one digit into her heat and groaned as her inner muscles clenched around it.

She moved to straddle him but they sunk awkwardly into the bed. Plus, her legs smarted from all the walking she’d done the day before. They settled on their sides, instead, his front to her back. He pushed her curls away from her face, nibbling her ear and neck. She giggled, wriggling back into him. One arm went beneath her, between breasts and belly. The other came between her thighs, once more. He eased her apart, easily finding all those spots that made her pant and writhe in his arms. She found a quick release around his fingers, but all she really wanted was to feel him move in her.

“Please, Thaddeus… please?” She rocked back against his cock and he growled, lifting her top leg and lining them up. They both sighed as he sank home. He rolled his hips, rocking into her and only withdrawing a little before sheathing himself once more. His slippery fingers came to her sensitive little nub, rubbing it in time with his gentle thrusts. Behind her, she could feel him shaking, his breath labored as he worked her up that peak. He was being so careful, so attentive, but she knew he was holding back. Now wasn’t the time for that.

“Thaddeus,” she breathed.

“Yes, my love?” he stilled, his breath hot in her ear. “What do you need?”

“It’s okay. Just let go.”

With an animalistic noise he pulled her tighter to him, plunging deeply within her and snapping his hips, over and over. Belle cried out her pleasure, thrusting back against him. His teeth sank into the place her neck met her shoulder and she felt herself break with a sudden force that nearly overwhelmed her. As she was still riding the aftershocks, she felt Thaddeus come, a rush of heat inside. He was muttering into her hair, some of it nonsensical, but one thing she caught quite clearly.

“Love you, Belle. My Belle. God, I love you so much.”


	14. Two Heads are Better

They spent most of Saturday in bed, canoodling and making hazy plans for the future. It was a perfect little love nest, but for the elephant in the room. As the sun was setting and Belle was sipping grape juice from a wine glass, she turned toward Thaddeus, looking troubled.

“He’s coming home tomorrow, you know.” There was no need to name him, they both knew who she meant.

Thaddeus nodded, face turning grave. “I know.” His son’s return would have given him the greatest joy on any other occasion. These were most unusual circumstances.

Belle absentmindedly stoked her rounded stomach. “We can’t hide this from him. Not anymore.”

Thaddeus swallowed the lump that had risen at the back of his throat. “I know,” he repeated. He stroked a stray hair from Belle’s face. “I’ll talk to him. He can get mad at me; it certainly won’t be the first time.” His mouth quirked.

She pressed her lips together and exhaled loudly through her nose. “No. We tell him together. If he gets mad at you, he gets mad at me too.”

“You’re much harder to stay mad at than I am,” Thaddeus teased, wrinkling his nose slightly.

Belle bit back a smile. “All the more to your benefit.”

Thaddeus kissed her forehead. “Together then.”

“Mm-hm.” Belle snuggled against him as he brought arm around her shoulders. She was quiet for a moment, contemplating Neal’s reaction. He had expressed an emphatic interest in being like an uncle to her child, fully unaware how close a blood relation it really was. “He might even like having a little sister. Once the initial shock wears off.”

Thaddeus made a non-committal sound but she felt him tense slightly.

She pulled back to meet search his face. It had gone pensive, his mouth a tight line.

“What’s wrong, Thaddeus?”

He couldn’t put his finger on it, exactly. Perhaps it was just nerves about telling his son that he’d fucked his best friend. And gotten her pregnant. And continued to fuck her. And that now they appeared to be… dating? It had been a very long time since he’d been on a date, but he was pretty sure it involved leaving the bedroom at some point. He took a long deep breath, feeling immensely foolish for the question he needed to ask.

“What…” he licked his lips and tried again, “what exactly should we tell him about… us.”

Belle blinked, as though the thought had not occurred to her once. Sure, it had been somewhere at the back of her mind, but hearing Thaddeus  give it a voice…. “You and me?” she asked, dumbly.

He nodded, finally meeting her eyes with that sad, searching look she was getting to know just a little too well.

Belle shifted to a better sitting position. This felt like the kind of conversation that required a straight spine. “It’s a little early to put a label on it, don’t you think?”

An array of emotions danced across Thaddeus’ brow before he released an uncomfortable laugh. “I, uh, I meant everything up until now. What should we… Not that I wouldn’t want to... That is… Um.”

Belle scrubbed a hand over her face. “Oh. Wow. Okay. Let’s pretend I didn’t just make this awkward.” Thaddeus laughed genuinely at that and she felt heartened. “I think he only needs to know the basics. We’ve been… seeing one another and the pregnancy was unintended but, as we’ve discovered, not really… unwanted. And that we love each other and want to make this – whatever this is – work, as best we can.”

Thaddeus’ mouth dropped open. “We… you… love me?” He couldn’t believe his ears, his heart thumping painfully hard in his chest.

She smiled. “I do, actually. Very much.” Her cheeks flushed as his expression shifted to one of pure awe. “You love me too, don’t you?”

With one hand on either cheek, he pressed his lips ardently to hers, hoping to infuse his kiss with all those things he didn’t know how to say. How he never thought there’d be a moment like this in his life. How grateful he felt to Belle and to whatever Fate or Deity may have brought him this treasure. How he’d never known how desperately he still needed to hear those words until she spoke them aloud. She kissed him back with equal fervor, only breaking away when they were both breathless and giddy.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then?” Belle giggled.

“Yes,” he breathed, kissing her cheeks, “oh yes.” Another kiss to her brow, then her chin. “A million times, yes.” Little pecks to each corner of her mouth that turned to sweet, sipping kisses.

He lay her back against the pillows for the third time that day and whispered his adoration across every inch of her body. Sometime later, they fell into a bonelessly sated slumber and Belle dreamt of a Springtime picnic with Thaddeus, Neal, and little Thornlet in her arms. 

***

Neal was in the highest of spirits, riding in the back seat of August’s grandpa’s junky old van as it chugged down the highway at a bracing 50mph. There were no other cars for miles in either direction and they were so far outside the city, still, he couldn’t even see the lights on the horizon. His amazing girlfriend was tucked under one arm, nursing a slight sunburn but smiling as she dozed. It was no small thing, Emma Swan trusting him like this, enough to fall asleep in his arms.

The first time she’d slept near him, they’d both passed out drunk in his backyard. That didn’t count. Not really. This time, they were both sober, just worn out from taking down the camp and packing up the van.  They could have all slept in his father’s cabin, but they had decided on an authentic camping experience with nothing but the tents and sleeping bags to separate man (and woman) from nature. That, and a transistor radio and August’s battery-powered lantern and a lighter… and okay they hadn’t exactly been hardcore roughing it. Still, Neal felt a sense of animalistic pride in having made love under the stars.

They’d gone off together, hand in hand, to a chorus of hoots and hollers from their friends. Emma had flipped the peanut gallery the bird, but her face had been flushed pink in the moonlight. It wasn’t their first time together, but it had felt new and special not to be cramped down in the backseat of a car, or listening for someone’s parent or guardian to come in the front door. They’d been able to take their time, huddled in the warmth of their conjoined sleeping bags. Afterward, they had named constellations, making up the ones they couldn’t quite remember and giggling themselves to sleep.

The wind through the open window ruffling this hair, Neal watched the scenery go by with a breathless sense of being so very alive in this moment. He was young and he was in love. When he told her, Emma had laughed and called him a hopeless romantic. But there’d been that secret smile in her eyes, the one just for him. That look that told him just how badly she’d needed him to say the words first. Before they drifted off, he’d heard her whisper it back.

The moon had just risen when August dropped him at his house. They’d unpacked Emma and the rest of the crew, already. August waved a tired but happy goodbye and took off for his grandfather’s house.

As soon as Neal walked in the door, something felt different. There was a nervous energy, an air of anticipation. Or at least, he’d think that after the fact. There was a good chance that he didn’t really notice it at the time and just filled in the blanks later. Whatever the case, his father and his best friend were sitting side by side in the parlor, wearing identical expressions of concern. Pop stood first, motioning to Belle to stay seated.

“Uh, hey guys… is everything okay?” His stomach clenched, the way it did when he had to go to the principal’s office on those increasingly rare occasions where he let his mouth get carried away.

“Son… I…” Thaddeus glanced down at Belle, whose eyes were round and wide. He could feel her trembling slightly. He took a deep breath. “That is, Belle and I need to tell you something. Would you mind sitting with us for a moment? I’m sure you’re tired but…. This is important.”

Neal arched an eyebrow (a habit he’d picked up from Pop and that made Emma collapse in gales of laughter when paired with his imitation of his father’s accent). “You guys are kinda freaking me out, you know that, right?”

Belle bit her lower lip and Thaddeus sat back down as Neal perched across from them. “Sorry, Neal. I guess this does seem a bit ominous, us just sitting here waiting for you. My fault. I just didn’t want to put it off any longer.”

Thaddeus touched Belle’s upper arm and gave her a warm look that made that sinking feeling in Neal’s stomach plummet further. When Belle returned the look with one of her own, Neal’s blood was rushing in his ears. And he just knew. Before they even opened their mouths again, he knew what they wanted to tell him. He barely heard the actual words when Pop said them aloud.

Together.

Dating.

Baby sister.

Some remaining rational part of his mind saw that in some ways it kind of made sense. Belle was always too smart and way too mature for the kind of guys they knew in school. Neal had always assumed she’d be the girl to date a college boy while still in high school. Someone worldly and experienced who saw her brilliance and actually got her really random references.

But he’d never have paired her with his own fucking father! It was… insane. And gross. And really stupid of both of them because honestly, how long did they think it could last? And it was just weird and wrong because Belle was like a damn sister to him! Thinking along those lines made his skin crawl and his stomach turn over. Fuck, this was some messed up shit.

“I have to go,” he managed, backing away, hackles rising.

“Son, please…”

“Neal…”

“No,” he ground out from between gritted teeth, unable to meet Belle’s pleading gaze or even look at his father’s ashen face. “No, this is...” he gestured wildly with both hands, grasping for words, “I just… I can’t be here right now. With either of you.”

And then he was gone.

Thaddeus made to run after him but Belle staid him, shaking her head sadly. “Don’t, sweetheart…”

“He has no right to walk out on his father, Belle,” Thaddeus asserted, feeling that familiar fear of loss creeping up the base of his spine. “We need to… to talk about this. He can’t just….” He waved after Neal’s departing direction with one hand.

Belle raised an eyebrow, “Can’t what? Do exactly what all three of us seem to do when confronted with a difficult moment?” Thaddeus flinched and she softened her tone, “He needs space, Thaddeus.” She rose to her feet, taking his free hand in both of hers. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Thaddeus’ mouth thinned and they shared a tense moment as Belle watched him weigh his options. She held her breath, dreading a row that might rupture the delicate peace they’d managed to restore between them. With a sigh, Thaddeus relented, shoulders slumping. He pulled Belle to him, wrapping his cane-arm around her and touching his forehead to hers.

“Avoidance does seem a common theme in this family, eh?” he joked half-heartedly. It warmed him to hear Belle give a soft little chuckle.

“Hmm, here’s hoping Thornlet can learn from our mistakes,” she murmured.

Thaddeus straightened to meet her eyes. “Thorn-what?”

Belle squeezed both eyes shut, her cheeks going pink. “Um. It’s nothing. It’s stupid.”

Thaddeus pulled his free hand from her grasp and cupped her cheek, running his thumb lightly over her lips. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wish to. But I admit, I’m… curious.”

Belle hesitated then gave a little shrug and a giggle. “I knew I shouldn’t give the baby a name – not a real name – back when I thought I wasn’t… _couldn’t_ keep her. But I wanted to call her something. So, I started calling her Thorn because my name was almost Rose until Mom changed it to Belle and because… well, any number of silly poetic imagery things you want to choose from. In my defense –  pregnant hormonal brain. I was all over the place. But it stuck. And when we found out she was a she, I sort of jokingly changed it to Thornlet.” She sunk her teeth into her lower lip and gave him an adorably plaintive look. “So, there you go. Stupid, I know.”

Despite his earlier distress, a genuine laughed bubbled up from Thaddeus’s belly and he kissed the rueful smile from her lips. “Not stupid.” Another kiss. “Adorable.” A kiss to the tip of her nose and her forehead. “I love it.”

Belle melted into him, burying her heated face against his shoulder, Thornlet shifting between them. “We won’t call her that, though, right?”

Thaddeus smoothed his hand over her hair and down her back. “Maybe not to her face, no.”

***

A few hours later, Neal was resting his head on Emma’s lap, sprawled across her couch. The couch was also essentially Emma’s bed, so there was a bunched sheet beneath them and a pillow that had fallen to the floor. Since she’d moved to Storybrooke last year, Emma had been staying with her cousin, Mary Margaret, who was only two years their senior but kept a tiny apartment near the school.

Neal didn’t know a lot about Emma’s situation before she came to town but he knew it wasn’t pleasant. She’d been underweight, with haunted eyes and a mistrustful nature when she first got here. A year and a half with Mary Margaret and finally making friends at school had helped to mellow her considerably, though she remained sarcastic as hell and tough as nails. Both qualities he, incidentally, found remarkably sexy.  Every now and then, Neal thought he saw her flinch away when someone went to hug or high-five her. It was such a tiny movement, barely noticeable, but it was enough to let him know how much she still hid from him. That was okay. He could happily spend a lifetime getting to know her better.

Right now, however, he was the one unburdening himself. Emma listened intently, inserting an opinion here and there, pointing out another point of view. Just being with her, he was beginning to feel calmer.

He had bolted for the door before either Pop or Belle could even get close. Because he’d wanted to lash out, to call them all the worst things he could think of. To hurt them and show them how it felt to have someone you loved – someone you trusted – betray you like that.

Because the worst of it wasn’t the whole weird incest-y feel to it. Pop and Belle clearly didn’t see things that way and apparently hadn’t for a long ass time. Belle wasn’t really his sister and she hadn’t grown up in their house, she’d just been around a lot. He could get over seeing her as a sister, he supposed – though there was no way in hell he’d be calling her ‘mom’ if they got married.

And he could get past the fact that Belle was his age and his Pop was, well, _not_. If it didn’t bother them, it wasn’t any of his business. Pop could date whoever he wanted and at least he knew Belle was with a guy who could treat her right.

No, none of that was the problem. The problem, and the truly fucked up part was how long they’d been keeping it from him. He’d been the first to know about Belle’s pregnancy, for fuck’s sake!

Emma gave a low whistle when he got to that part.

“What?” he looked up at her.

Emma shook her head. “It’s funny. You actually were the one to tell your dad that he was gonna be a father for the second time….”

Neal blinked. “Shit. I was.” He made an exasperated noise. “Come on, Em, this is all just too weird, right?”

She nodded. “Can’t say I disagree. I mean, I barely know your dad, though. And Belle… actually, don’t be pissed but honestly, I’m not super surprised about Belle. Some of the girls and I thought it was Jefferson’s kid. Because he’s older and more mature and it just kind of made sense at the time. Well, until he started dating Dr. Hopper.”

“Yeah,” Neal conceded. “I wasn’t totally shocked Belle would go for an older guy, either. But, like, did it have to be my dad? And why didn’t she just tell me?”

Emma made a face. “Um, maybe because she was afraid you’d storm off in a big dramatic rage. You know, like you did.”

Neal scrubbed a hand down his face. “Fuck. I hate it when you’re right.”

“No you don’t. You love it.”

He sat up, turning to face her. “You’re right. I love it. I love _you_.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, you’re such a dork. We’re talking about your dad knocking up your best friend and you want to have a sappy moment?”

Neal affected a pout. “Why not? It would make me feel better…”

Emma’s mouth twisted but she leaned closer. “Dork.”

“Your dork,” Neal grinned, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“My dork,” Emma agreed, pulling his lower lip between both of hers.


	15. Where the Heart Is

Neal had to go home, eventually. Mary Margaret was permissive as far as family members went, but there was no way Emma was having a boy share the couch for a night. Neal shrugged and made his way over to August’s grandpa’s place. It was cramped quarters, but August had a sleeping bag waiting for him on the bedroom floor. August pressed him for details but Neal proclaimed himself just too tired to think and August relented.

Neal slept fitfully, waking often and needing a moment to remember where he was. He wished Emma was beside him. Anywhere with Emma felt a million times better than without her. He could live in a palace and consider himself a beggar without her near. He wondered, half-dreaming, if that was how Belle felt about his Pop – finding that sense of _home_ in another person’s arms.

He woke to the radio alarm blaring. August blearily hit it while mumbling curse words then turned over in his bed. Neal lay on his back, staring at the low stucco ceiling and thinking about what Emma had said about him storming off in anger. As far back as he could remember, that was just the way he and Belle had fought. Belle had a fierce temper on her and sometimes it was just better for them not to be around one another if they’d had a fight. Over the years, they’d only had a couple real whoppers. One of them he could barely remember but the other had had to do with him offering to share groceries with her.

As kids, Neal had noticed how often Belle went without lunch or only brought something small. He started making sure there was plenty of food in his to offer her. In middle school, she figured out that his Pop wasn’t just packing him an enormous lunch by accident. Neal was squirreling away chips and mini-muffins and lots of snacks just so he’d always have extra to give her.

He didn’t think it was a big deal, because who doesn’t like snacks? When she confronted him about it, he not only owned up but offered to have Pop get extra groceries for her and her dad, if they needed them. Belle had been furious. She told him in no uncertain terms that the French family (that was the way she said it – the French family) did not need his “bloody charity” and he ought to keep his business to himself. She’d flounced out of the cafeteria and wouldn’t speak to him for two days.

At the time, he’d been miffed, August commiserating with him over video games as they lamented the moodiness of girls. Still, it sat like a stone at the pit of his stomach. Somehow, however well intentioned, he’d managed to piss off his best friend. August was a cool enough guy but you could really only spend a couple hour with him before you needed to be around someone whose brain wasn’t made of wood. Neal missed his adventures with Belle in the library. That’s when it struck him how he might make amends. With his Pop’s help, he picked out an antique book from the pawn shop. He had been planning to bring it to the flower shop when he found Belle on his doorstep, shuffling her feet and looking bashful.

They’d fallen into one another’s arms, both apologizing at once. Once they’d pulled apart, Belle shyly offered a friendship bracelet she’d been making all day. Neal grinned and offered up the book. She had loved it instantly and spent the next week telling him all about the daring sword fights and prince in disguise.

It was the last really big blowout they’d had until now.

He thought about that faded, ratty bracelet. It had broken and been re-tied until it could no longer go on his wrist. Then he’d kept it hooked on the corner of a picture frame that held that shot of them at camp, right before they got sick. For all he felt he had every right to, it was almost impossible to stay that mad at Belle. She’d always been there for him over the years. She’d held his hand and let him cry on her shoulder when he got rejected by the first girl he ever liked. They’d told one another secrets that no one else knew. Belle was a part of his heart, as surely as Pop or Emma.

And yeah, he was furious with Pop, too. But even that felt muddied, diluted by the morning light and the promise of a new day. He was pretty sure the whole pregnancy thing couldn’t have been planned. Belle was way too meticulous for that. Pop was too, for that matter. One of the things they had in common. Plus the quick temper, the lack of a filter sometimes, the love of books… Fuck, on paper, without the age difference, he might have even said they were a good match.

Gross.

Neal made a face, sitting up and running both hands through his messy hair. Pop was an idiot. But he was pretty clearly really into Belle. Nothing Neal said or did was going to change that. He exhaled noisily. What a mess.

On the bed, August grunted and shifted. “You up?” he croaked.

“Yeah.”

“Wanna bring me some breakfast?” August sniffed and scrubbed at his face blearily.

“What is this, our honeymoon? No, man. I was just gonna hit Granny’s.” Neal rose from the floor, yawning and stretching his arms above his head. “If your Majesty wants to get out of bed, I’ll buy us pancakes.”

“You still got your dad’s credit card?”

Neal shot a sharp look at August. “Why?”

The other boy sat up and shrugged, “Just asking. I did let you crash here, no questions asked.”

Neal rolled his eyes. “I don’t know about the ‘no questions’ thing. If you’d stuck your nose in any further, I’d have started calling you Leroy. If pancakes aren’t a good enough thank you, your lazy ass can just stay in bed. I’m headed to the Diner.”

August leapt to his feet and began pulling on some jeans. “Hey whatever. It’s cool. Pancakes sound great.”

They arrived at Granny’s just after the breakfast rush was clearing out and slid into a booth. He’d texted Emma to come join them but hadn’t heard back. She’d probably gone to school today. He’d already had Pop write an excuse note so he could skip the day after the trip, figuring he’d be burnt. August was just bunking off, as he so often did.

The pretty waitress took their order, August turning up the charm and Neal barely paying attention. They were halfway through breakfast, discussing the latest lacrosse game at school, when the bell over the door jingled and August stopped mid-bite.

“Dude.”

“What?” Neal swallowed his mouthful of bacon.

August’s eyebrows shot up. “Your dad is here.”

“Oh. Great.” Neal hunched over his plate.

“With Belle. Like, your Belle. Our Belle. From school, Belle.”

Neal’s eyes squeezed shut. Fuck. “Yeah, so? It’s not like they don’t know each other.”

“They’re holding hands.”

Neal heaved a sigh and gulped down some coffee, glancing around the Diner. Every eye was on the doorway. “Yeah.”

August ducked low across the table and peered at him. “You don’t look surprised.”

“Can we just… not talk about it? Please?” Neal growled, keeping his voice down, in case Pop or Belle might be close enough to hear him.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, it’s not like the whole town is gonna talk about this shit… Nope, no big news here. Just Mr. Owns the Town Gold and his pregnant teenage Mistress-”

“Don’t you fucking dare call her that!” Neal lurched forward in his seat, unthinking, grabbing the collar of August’s shirt.

“Neal?” Belle’s voice made him release August and slump back into his seat.

She rounded the booth, belly first, upper teeth sunk into her lower lip. Neal stared up at her, unsure what to say or even feel. “Um. Hey Belle. Surprised you’re not at school.”

Belle shrugged, looking uneasy. “I just… wasn’t feeling up to it, today. Had… kind of a bad night.”

Neal kicked his feet under the table, twisting his napkin in his hands. “Yeah, me too.”

“You, uh.. You wanna talk about it?” She inclined her head, eyes wide and almost pleading.

“Not right now, thanks.”

Her shoulders fell. “Oh. Okay. Sure. Well, I should…”

Oh goddammit. He couldn't let her sound like that. Not just sad, not just disappointed. She sounded… hurt. By him. All previous thoughts of petty vengeance flew out the window at that quiet dejection in her tone. The pancakes, fluffy and delicious a moment ago, sat like lead in his stomach. He couldn't just let her walk away on that note. Neal cleared his throat.

“How about tonight? When I, uh… when I get home.”

Belle’s face lit with a smile. “I’d like that. Very much.”

Neal nodded, feeling a bit calmer, at last. The knot in his stomach loosened. “Okay cool. We can all have dinner or something.”

“All… three of us?” she asked, hesitantly.

Neal’s gaze flicked to August, who was busy looking like he wasn't eavesdropping. He exhaled noisily, running a hand through his hair again. He needed a shower. “Yeah, tell the old man, he can come too. But only if there’s pizza involved.”

Belle gave a little laugh. “I think pizza can be arranged.” She rested a hand on his shoulder and he met her eyes once more. “Thank you,” she added softly.

He shrugged. “Have a good breakfast.”

“You too.” She looked at his companion, her smile wavering slightly. “Bye August.”

August just blinked dumbly at her as she went back to the table she was sharing with Thaddeus.

Thaddeus rose and pulled out the chair for Belle to lower herself into. Once seated across from her, he shyly extended a hand the length of the table.

“How, uh, how is he?”

Belle took the proffered hand, ignoring an audible gasp from across the room. “He's willing to talk to us over dinner,” a tremulous smile, “as long as it's pizza.”

Thaddeus gave an uncertain chuckle, glancing up at his son’s booth. “If he's already negotiating food, I suppose he can't be too angry with us.”

Belle squeezed his hand, opening her mouth to say something reassuring when a shadow fell across the table. She looked up into the vastly disappointed face of Granny Lucas.

The older woman put both hands on her hips and glared at Thaddeus as though her gaze could set him on fire. “You've got some nerve, old man.”

Thaddeus’ mouth pressed into a thin line, nostrils flaring as he stared straight ahead. “I've been told as much, before.”

“This is a new low. Even for you. Taking advantage of a pregnant girl...” Granny shook her head.

“Mrs. Lucas,” Belle snapped, coming to her feet, though she still had to tilt her head up, “if I or the father of my child,” more gasps from those who were no longer even pretending not to stare, “are no longer welcome at this establishment, then we can go elsewhere. We will not be subjected to your judgement when all we want to do is enjoy breakfast.”

Thaddeus scrambled to his feet, offering Belle her coat with a mumbled “Let's go, love. I can make mediocre pancakes at home.”

Belle, now spoiling for a fight, hesitated before shrugging into the coat with a grumble.

Granny shook her head, a frown etched deeply into her weathered face. “Honestly, Belle. I just thought you were smarter than this. You know what kind of man he is.”

Thaddeus tucked Belle into his side, an attempt to shield her from any further unpleasantness. Belle staid him with a hand to his chest, feeling his heart race under her palm. She turned back to Granny, head held high.

“I do know what kind of man he is. I know he's the kind of man who will do anything, go to any length to protect someone he loves. And I know that he loves fiercely and passionately. I know his heart is true. Can you say the same?” She looked around the room, “Can any of you? If your positions were reversed and you'd been reviled for years in this town simply because no one wants to thoroughly read their own rental agreements, would you have still extended credit to every debtor who asked? Would you have kept the interest rates manageable by calculating exactly how much the payee can afford? He may be strict but I've seen his books and he has been more than fair to far more of _you_ than deserve it.”

No one answered.

Thaddeus had shrunk in on himself when Granny was speaking, but he slowly straightened out as the tiny spitfire he adored vehemently defended him. He couldn't even bring himself to be upset that she must have snuck a peek at accounts he'd sometimes left out in the back room of the shop when they were otherwise occupied. Shoulders back, he took his place by Belle’s side. “They aren't worth upsetting yourself, Belle.”

She shook her head, taking his hand once more. “Maybe not, but you are.”

At the counter, Leroy piped up, “What kool-aid does he have you drinking, sister?”

A few of those gathered nodded their heads, muttering under their breath at one another. Belle flinched as she caught some unfavorable words about her apparent lack of virtue.

With a noise of frustration, Neal slid out of his booth.  He'd tried to stay out of it, let Belle and Pop handle the mess they'd created. But this was getting to be too much. He wasn't about to sit by idle when his family was being insulted. This town had never been the kindest but Pop never seemed to mind, so long as they left Neal alone. It occurred to him how little anyone really appreciated what Pop did for them, all without ever caring how badly disrespected he was.

“Okay Leroy,” Neal addressed the older man, “but who lent you money to fix your houseboat after every bank had turned you down?”

Leroy’s mouth twisted. “Yeah, and wanted the whole boat as collateral.”

Neal threw both hands up, exasperated. “That's because you didn't own anything else! And I remember doing my homework in the shop when you came in to buy that ring for Astrid. He sat with you for three hours working out a budget. Bet you never even told anyone about that part, huh?”

Leroy looked down, face reddening. He took a swig of coffee and fiddled with his fork. “Yeah, fine. But he was kind of a dick about it.”

Neal inclined his head. “Fair enough. Maybe that's because you never once thanked him.” He turned his attention to a fair-haired man a few seats away from Leroy. “How about you, Mr. Tillman? What about when you needed help getting back full custody of your kids but couldn't afford an attorney? Who worked at a discounted rate and got them home?”

Tillman’s face turned ashen. “He was the one who had called child services in the first place!”

“And it did get you to stop drinking, didn't it?” Thaddeus added, pursing his lips.

Tillman’s face went from pale to blood-red. He looked away, his silence confirmation enough.

Neal and his father shared a look of triumph. “You know, I can keep going. I mean, Belle’s just seen the books; I have lived with this man my whole life. He's no saint. He can be a selfish, sarcastic asshole. But this town wouldn't be the same without him” Neal gestured to Thaddeus and Belle beamed. “Like, if you really want me airing more dirty laundry, go ahead. Go right on ahead and keep insulting my Pop and my best friend.”

A few people gave him ugly looks but no one else spoke. Granny huffed and retreated to the kitchen. Only Belle caught the color burning high on her cheeks. She wondered what the older woman might be hiding. She could ask Thaddeus but it hardly seemed to matter, now.

Neal jerked his head toward the door. “Come on. Let's go, August.”

August hedged for a moment, eyes darting around the room, before shaking his head. “Sorry, man. I think I'm gonna stay here.”

“Oh,” Neal swallowed a lump in his throat. He'd known that jumping to Pop’s defense might come with a price. He just hadn't realized this might be part of it. He'd drawn a line in the sand and there would be some who weren't ready to cross. “Fine. See you at school.”

August shifted away, making a noncommittal noise.

Belle gently linked her arm through Neal’s, still holding his father's hand with her other. He looked down at her large eyes, wide with concern. And he smiled. In that moment, he knew he'd made the right choice.


	16. Epilogue: New Beginnings

Belle stared skeptically at the pile of suitcases and assorted bags on the bed. This was far too much stuff. Where had it all come from? True, they had been packing for a week, but surely they didn’t need all this? The baby gave a little kick, as though in agreement, and she smoothed her hand down the length of her swollen belly.

“Baby?” she called into the other room, “You almost done?”

There was no immediate answer, just a loud thumping noise. Belle waddled into the bedroom and exclaimed loudly at the sight before her. “Thora Colette Gold, you are not bringing an entire suitcase of stuffed animals! Look at the mess you’ve made!”

Her daughter looked up guiltily from amidst the pile of scattered toys she had been steadily stuffing into her sky-blue plastic case, until it had fallen off of the bed. “But… they get lonely when I’m not here…”

Biting back a laugh at her daughter’s earnest face, Belle shook her head. “Oh honey, I’m sure they can keep each other company for a couple of weeks. It’s just like when we went to Prague last year. Don’t you remember?”

Thora shook her head, her lips forming a tiny moue. “They missed me,” she insisted.

Belle lowered herself, with some difficulty, to Thora’s height and stroked some errant curls from the girl’s face. “I’ll tell you what, how about when we get there, you can practice your writing by making them postcards?”

Thora blinked at her. “What if they can’t read?” She looked over her shoulder at the collection of toys and dolls, mildly distressed. “I don’t have time to teach them, Mamma…”

Belle put on her most thoughtful expression, then held up a finger. “Ah! We can have Mrs. Potts read the postcards to them!”

Thora smiled at last, bouncing a little on her toes. “She won’t mind?”

“Not at all, Baby. Now, where is that flowergirl dress, hm?” Belle stood back up and surveyed the room.

“Oh, I put the dress in there first.”

Belle’s face scrunched, “Oh God, it’s going to be one big wrinkle.”  Thora helped her lift the suitcase to the bed and they began removing the remaining toys from atop the puffy yellow dress. “Well, Storybrooke ought to have at least one dry cleaner. Otherwise, you might be walking down the aisle in your jimjams and a tutu... “

Thora seemed to consider this. “What’s wrong with that?”

Belle laughed and kissed the top of her daughter’s head.

“Frankly, I’m surprised that isn’t the dress code, already,” Thaddeus leaned into the doorway, adjusting his tie. “This whole thing looks surprisingly traditional for those two.”

Belle smiled. “I’m pretty sure Mary Margaret had a big hand in the planning.”

“Daddy!” Thora slid from the bed and took off at a run to wrap both arms around her father’s legs.

He chuckled and carded the hand not holding his cane, through her hair. “How’s my little monster, today?”

Thora made a growling noise at him and hugged him tighter.

“Besides destroying fine fabric and trying to take a whole menagerie on the plane? She’s been a delight.” Belle rose from the bed and kissed her husband. “How did the deal go?”

Thaddeus grinned like the cat who ate the canary. “Let’s just say that construction on the extra bedroom is completely covered. With perhaps a little left to extend Neal and Emma’s honeymoon.”

Belle snorted. “Good luck getting them to take the money.”

Thaddeus shrugged, “I’ll slip it in his pocket before we leave. Then he can’t give it back, this time.”

Thora, bored with adult conversation that did not currently pertain to her, slid out from between her parents. She had toys to offer words of comfort before they flew out to some place called Storybrooke for her big brother’s wedding. It wasn’t her first time on a plane but it would be the first time she’d been to America when she was old enough to remember it. Mama told her that they had all been there once when she was a baby but she couldn’t picture it.

America seemed awfully far away and full of lots of colorful people with weird accents she heard on the telly sometimes. She was pretty excited to see it. Of course, she was most excited to see Neal and Emma. They came out to visit a couple times every year and she was always sad to see them go. Neal liked coloring with her and hearing the stories she made up. He always told the silliest jokes. Emma wasn’t as funny but she’d taught Thora how to kick a football and how to flip over the swingset. Mama had been a little upset about that last one, but Thora had promised not to do it if there wasn’t a grownup around to keep her safe. That made Mama feel better.

Thora heard her name and looked up from cradling Lancelot the Ocelot. “Yes, Mama?”

“Do you think you could make a little pile of your underclothes and socks for me? We’re gonna repack the case, okay?”

Thora nodded, happy that she wasn’t in trouble for rumpling her dress. “Okay.”

***

“I don’t really need to bring the laptop. Emma said Granny’s finally got wi-fi and I’ve got the whole thesis and all my research stored on Google docs, anyway.” Belle eyed the polka dot laptop bag hanging from the chair.

Thaddeus moved closer, wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing her hairline, just over her ear. “Sweetheart, I know you. A six hour flight without getting any work done? You’ll run mad. Bring it. I’ll carry it and keep the little monster busy on the plane.”

Belle hummed, leaning back against him, “I suppose I wouldn’t mind keeping a little busy. But we’ve got so much stuff, Thaddeus! We’ll need two porters, at least. And the rooms at Granny’s aren’t that big and there are all those stairs to consider and…” She realized how ridiculous she sounded and snapped her mouth shut, exhaling heavily through her nose.

Thaddeus released her to step around to the front, touching her cheek. “Belle, what’s really bothering you? I know it’s not the luggage you’ve been fussing over for a week. Are you worried about flying at six months?” He dropped his hand to her stomach.

Belle’s mouth twisted and she shook her head. “No. I mean, maybe a little, but… well at least it’s not seven or eight months… And it’s not like they could have known a year ago when they sent out the save-the-date.” She licked her lips. “It’s just… Storybrooke and… I know it’s been a long time but, well, this is the first time we’ll be back in… in years. And, I just…”

Thaddeus frowned, the answer to his question coming to him even before Belle could form the words. “Your father,” he murmured.

Belle nodded, turning her very blue, very round eyes to his. “We still haven’t spoken but… Ruby told me he hasn’t been doing too well. He’s closed the shop.”

He pulled her close, wrapping both arms around her shoulders. Belle tucked her head under his chin and took a shaky breath. They stayed like that, unspeaking, for a long moment. Thaddeus knew very well what it was to lose an estranged father. His own had died years ago and Thaddeus had only found out when an old friend of his late aunt had mailed him a clipping of the obituary. For a long time, he had pretended it meant nothing to him. Yet he’d kept the clipping, hidden away in a memory box. He would probably never forgive Moe French for the way he’d treated Belle, but Belle had always had the bigger heart. If seeing her father was what she needed to do, he would be there for her in any way she needed.

Belle swiped at her cheeks, feeling ridiculous. This was a happy occasion, a celebration. They were flying back to witness Neal and Emma’s union and to see some familiar much loved faces. She ought to feel joyous. But all week, that sinking feeling of dread had not left her stomach. It sat there like a stone, coloring her dreams in drab grey and her days with a subtle taste of fear. Having given a name to the anxiety, taking succor in her husband’s arms, these things helped a little. Deep down, though, she already knew what she needed to do. She had to face her father, even if it was the last time.

Once her tears had dried, Belle noticed something. “It’s awfully quiet, don’t you think?”

Thaddeus nodded, “Good point.”

Untangling themselves, they walked toward their daughter’s room.

“Oh… oh sweetheart…” Belle sighed with amusement, upon reaching the doorway. Behind her, Thaddeus began to chuckle.

At the center of the her rug sat Thora Gold, surrounded by what looked like an art project of some sort, made entirely of her underwear and socks. She looked up, “What?”

***

The flight was blessedly uneventful. Thaddeus brought enough books and games to keep Thora entertained. Belle, unfocused as she was, made very little progress on her thesis but she did manage to jot down a few notes and do a little editing. She was grateful for the distraction of unloading all the bags (she’d managed to eliminate a few of them, but not as many as she’d hoped) and getting the taxi to Granny’s.

Once there, Thora had already begun to droop. They checked into their rooms with minimal fuss. Ruby was out and the new attendant Granny had hired did not seem to know them. For once, Thora lay down willingly for a nap, snuggled up on her equally tired Papa. After returning from the restroom for the tenth time that day, Belle smiled at the two greatest loves of her life and joined them on the bed.

A few hours later, she awoke to the sound of Thaddeus humming as he unpacked their suitcases. Thora, still asleep, had rolled onto her side, facing away from her mother.

“Hey, why didn’t you wake me?” Belle whispered, pulling herself to a sitting position with a yawn. She stroked her sleeping daughter’s hair and Thora made a soft, contented little sound. 

Thaddeus murmured “You seemed like you could use the rest. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

Belle inhaled deeply, the anxiety was still rattling around in her head but it didn’t feel quite so raw, now. She slid to her feet and gave her husband a small smile. “I’m okay.” At his concerned look, she added, “really. It’s… kind of nice to be back. In a rose colored nostalgia glasses kind of way.”

Thaddeus smirked. “The eternal optimist…”

Just as Belle was formulating a retort, there was a knock at the door. She and Thaddeus exchanged glances.

He inclined his head “Go on. I doubt it’s for me.”

On the other side stood Ruby, Ariel, and another young woman she had not yet met, but recognized from Ruby’s Facebook pictures. Belle pressed a finger to her lips and stepped into the hallway, quietly indicating to Thaddeus that she’d be right back.

“Belle! You’re here!” Ariel gathered Belle in a for a hug, bouncing slightly in her excitement. The two of them had stayed quite close, exchanging emails and making Skype calls a couple of times per month. Belle had flown out to Boston to be a bridesmaid in Ariel’s wedding to Eric and she’d been one of the first to know when Ariel became pregnant with their daughter, Melody.

Belle returned her friend’s hug, smiling. “I didn’t think I’d see you guys until tomorrow.”

“Surprise!” Ruby threw her arms open and Belle happily fell into them, next.

Of her Storybrooke friends, Ruby had been one of the most outspoken in defense of Belle’s relationship with Thaddeus. There had been a brief time, between the revelation of Thora’s paternity and Belle’s graduation, when Belle had become something of a local celebrity. People who had never spoken two words to her stopped her in the streets to either lecture and berate her or commend her bravery. Those closest to her rallied around in solidarity of her right to make her own life choices, but even that didn’t make the day to day attention any easier to bear. It didn’t take long for Thaddeus to turn his suggestion of leaving town for good into a reality.

Belle had always suspected Ruby’s vehement insistence on taking her side might have begun with just another way to rebel against her Granny. But she had been grateful for the support and the experience had brought the two of them a great deal closer.

Ruby stepped back from their embrace, grinning and wrapped her arm around the shoulders of the Chinese woman who had arrived with them. “Belle, meet Maggie. Maggie, this is my world-travelling friend, Belle.”

Belle beamed at the woman. “Maggie, I’m so happy to meet you, at last! I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things!”

Maggie’s cheeks tinged pink and she gave a shy smile as she extended a hand “And I’ve heard a great deal about all your adventures.”

Belle shook the offered hand firmly. “Well, they have slowed down a bit, recently.” She indicated her belly and the other women chuckled. “Hard to do all that sightseeing with swollen ankles.”

Ariel nodded, understandingly. “Hard to do much of anything, some days. When are you due?”

“Not for another two and a half months.”

Ruby clapped her hands together. “Okay, enough pregnancy talk. How do you feel about coming out with us, tonight?”

Belle’s forehead furrowed, “Where?”

“Ladies’ Night at the Rabbit Hole,” Ariel answered. “Don’t worry, they actually have some really great virgin drinks and it’s gotten a lot cleaner since the last time they shut it down. Plus, no one is allowed to smoke inside anymore.”

Ruby nodded. “Nothing wild, just the girls catching up over cocktails. I mean, the wedding is tomorrow and even Emma won't risk the hangover before her big day.”

“Yeah, MM would probably have a fit,” Belle giggled.

“Oh, MM is gonna be there, too. She’s actually really mellowed since David moved in.” Ariel chirped, cheerfully.

Belle raised an eyebrow at that. Mary Margaret and her affair with David Nolan had been the next big scandal to rock the town once Belle and Thaddeus took their leave. Belle had only seen the fallout on social media, but she had reached out to MM to offer a little comfort. She knew what it was like to be in the eye of the storm with Storybrooke gossip. MM had not been entirely receptive but thanked her for the kind words. They had remained on somewhat friendly terms, but were, by no means, close. Belle was honestly surprised to hear that Mary Margaret would be caught dead at the Rabbit Hole. Perhaps she really had mellowed.

Ruby pouted, clasping her hands in front of her. “Come on, please? You left before we could ever even go to a bar together. It’d be really nice to spend some non-wedding time together…”

Belle wavered slightly. She knew she needed to go talk to her father, but just thinking about seeing him put her stomach in knots. Perhaps it could wait until after the wedding. “Let me check with Thaddeus. There might be something he wanted to do and we can’t leave Thora sitting in a hotel room... “

“Oh!” exclaimed Ariel, “She can come play with Melody, if she likes. Eric is going out with the boys so we’ve got a sitter already. Lovely girl named Grace. She’s our usual and she’s a wonder. Melody adores her.”

Belle nibbled her lower lip. “Um, can I just text you later, when I decide?”

Ruby pulled a face, “Oh fine. Be all responsible and talk to your hubby. Tell him we said hi, okay?”

“Will do,” Belle nodded. “Either way, we’ll definitely spend some time before I fly out. I promise.”

They said they goodbyes and the three women took off down the hallway, Ruby swinging her conjoined hands with Maggie and Ariel waving over one shoulder.

Belle head back into the room and sagged against the door with a sigh.

Thaddeus crossed to her, running a hand down her arm. “What is it?”

Belle shook her head. “They want me to come to Ladies’ Night with them. Just to catch up. I just.. It’s been so long and it would be nice but... I’ve got so much else on my mind. What do you think?”

He kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose. “I think that what I think doesn’t matter. What would make you happy, Belle?”

She drew a long breath and smiled at him. He knew her so well.

In the end, she did go to the Rabbit Hole. Neal had invited Thaddeus to join his friends at the local bowling alley, but Thaddeus found he was not up to small talk with 20-somethings. Not to mention, the conversation was definitely not going to be appropriate for a 6 year old. Instead, he opted to order take-away and stay in the room with Thora, completing a puzzle.

Belle was home early enough to help put Thora to bed in the little adjoining room. They settled in for the night and Belle recounted a few of the more interesting events of the night, including Maggie forcibly escorting out a barfly for grabbing Ruby’s ass. Turned out, Maggie was a Sheriff’s deputy, alongside Emma. With a few drinks in her, Maggie was quite the storyteller. Between her and Emma, Belle was laughing until her sides hurt.

“Glad you went, then?” Thaddeus asked, pulling her into his side, his hand resting loosely at her hip.

“Mmhm,” she hummed, nosing his neck, her hand fiddling with the middle button of his pajama top. “Gladder to be back with you…” She flicked open the button and slid her hand along the plane of his chest.

Thaddeus made a low sound of appreciation, his hand slowly hiking up her nightgown. “Is that so?”

Instead of answering, Belle proceeded to show him. 

***

The next day dawned bright and sunny, the sky nearly cloudless.

Thaddeus was the first to wake, again. He smiled down at his sleeping wife, her face soft and almost painfully beautiful in the morning light. His traced the curve of her hip  through the blanket with one hand and contemplated how on Earth he had managed to get this lucky in life. His contemplation was disturbed by Thora opening the bedroom door. Upon seeing him awake, she bounded toward the bed and he only managed to stop a flying leap at the last minute by gesturing that her mother was still asleep. Thora skidded to a halt, her upper teeth clamping down on her lower lip in an impish smile that she’d clearly learned from her mother.

In what could only be thought of as a stage whisper, Thora asked “Can I get in with you if I don’t wake up Mama?”

“Mama’s awake, kidney bean.” A husky voice emanated from the covers. Belle rolled and shifted to sitting. “Come on board.” She patted the space between them.

Thora scrambled into it, happily, as Thaddeus kissed Belle’s cheek.

“How did you sleep?”

“Mm, not too badly. Say what you want about the accommodations, Granny knows her way around a decent mattress.” She gave him a bleary smile. “You?”

Before he could answer, Thora announced that she was hungry. Belle chided her daughter for interrupting, but agreed that she could also use a bite. After some deliberation, it was decided to give Granny’s Diner a shot. After all, it couldn’t possibly be as bad as the last time they were there.

The diner was mostly empty, as always. A few regulars at the bar did double takes when Belle and Thaddeus walked past, each holding one of Thora’s hands. No one said a word to them as they took an available booth. Belle flipped open the menu, feeling on edge but not wishing to show it. As though sensing her need for comfort, Thaddeus reached for her hand across the table. Thora began relating a song she’d been learning the week before. The clearing of a throat drew the table’s attention to where Granny had appeared at the end.

“Mr. Gold”

Thaddeus tensed, instinctively, and Belle smoothed her thumb over his knuckles.

“Mrs. Lucas.” He inclined his head.

Granny looked at Belle. “Mrs. Gold, is it now?”

Belle tilted her chin up. “It is.” She locked eyes with the much older woman, Granny Lucas’ face unreadable. They studied one another for a long moment before Granny’s eyes softened.

“Marriage looks good on you.” She nodded toward Thaddeus. “Both of ya’.” She turned to Thora, a smile lighting her weathered face. “And who might this precious darling be?”

Thora beamed under the compliment and proudly introduced herself. Belle relaxed against the back of her seat and felt Thaddeus do the same. Their breakfast went swimmingly and two other town residents stopped by to say hello and meet Thora. Thaddeus was uncomfortable being approached, as always but Thora lapped up the attention and was all too happy to do most of the talking. She got a little fussy when it was time to leave and get dressed for the wedding. The reminder of wearing a pretty dress and seeing Neal got her up the stairs.

The wedding ceremony itself was brief but elegantly executed. Belle could see Mary Margaret’s little touches of tradition here and there, but Emma had added her own flair, especially to the reception. The music and the alcohol were both flowing freely as Emma kicked off her heels and took to the dance floor. Neal swung Thora around in between dances with his wife and even took Belle out for a turn on the floor. Thora and Melody took an immediate shine to one another and spent half the party crawling under tables and stealing party favors. At one point, Leroy approached with his wife Astrid and made a stuttering apology to Belle and Thaddeus. In a rare moment of beneficence, it was Thaddeus who offered a hand to shake.

By the end of the evening, Belle and Thaddeus put their sleepy daughter to bed and fell quickly into an exhausted slumber. As she drifted off, it occurred to Belle that she hadn’t thought of her father once, all day. She wondered what it meant but unconsciousness overtook her before she could puzzle it for too long.

***

Belle dreamt of her father, or rather, she’d dreamt of his absence. She’d been a child, no more than 10 years old or so, running through the halls of a large house with no furniture or pictures. All the windows were shut but had no curtains, the light filtered in a hazy sepia tone. She’d been searching for something or someone, in the dream it wasn’t quite clear. But every door she opened only held another empty room and she cried out, begging her father to come find her. Her voice echoed off the barren walls and down hallways, but no answer came.

She awoke gasping for air, the feeling of tears still fresh on her cheeks. It was well before dawn but she found that she could not fall back asleep. She ran a hot bath, instead, willing herself to relax. When Thaddeus was up, he asked her what she needed to do before they left town.

She thought for a long time and made the decision. “I can’t be afraid to face him, not now. Not when I’ve got you and Thora and our new little one on the way.” She held a damp hand out to him and he took it, holding it firmly. “We’ll head over after breakfast.”

Thaddeus took a deep breath. The worry on his beloved wife’s brow vexed him deeply. He wished he could kiss it away for good. If this was what she felt she must do to set her heart at ease… So be it. They dropped Thora off to play with Melody at the park and set off to Game of Thorns.

The shop was closed, as Ruby had stated, the windows dark and devoid of decoration. Belle was reminded of her dream and a chill ran down her spine. Thaddeus gave her a concerned look and she forced a smile she did not feel.

“It’s fine. Just, um, do you mind staying here for a minute? I should go in first.”

Thaddeus frowned but bit his tongue and nodded. This was for Belle’s comfort, not his own. He would be a nervous wreck, nonetheless, lingering just by the door until she returned.

The door was unlocked, the glass in the bottom panel broken. It crunched under her feet as she walked in, past the familiar register (the drawer open and empty). Up the narrow stairs she went, heart pounding in her ears. The door at the top was locked and she knocked hesitantly. Then knocked again, louder and more confidently. She heard a hacking cough followed by the shuffle of slippers on carpet.

The door opened and there he stood, shaggy and grey all over, in a stained bathrobe and the bunny slippers she’d bought him for Father’s Day over a decade ago. She was amazed they were still solid enough to be worn, ragged as they looked.

Moe thought he was seeing things. Before him was the daughter he’d lost oh, how many years ago he forgot. He blinked bleary, bloodshot eyes, his mouth falling open. She was beautiful as she’d ever been, smartly dressed in something he’d never have been able to afford for her even when business was good and he hadn’t started drinking away the nest egg.

“Belle?” he exhaled the scent of cheap whiskey, “Am I seeing things? You real?” His voice cracked, hands fidgeting with the ties of his rope.

“Hi… Dad.”

He blinked again, his brain slogging through the memories of his little daughter, of all the ways he’d failed her. “Why are you here?”

Belle pressed her lips together, the backs of her eyes burning, she shrugged one shoulder. “I, uh, I don’t really know. We were in town for a wedding and I just.. I thought I’d come see you. Say hi.” It sounded so hollow, so stupidly casual when she was screaming inside.

 _We were in town._ The words echoed between them. And then Moe finally remembered the last time he’d seen his daughter. He’d been drunk, of course, showed up at her graduation and called her a slag for taking up with that nasty villain, Mr. Gold. For having a bloody child by the man. The fucking monster. The beast, himself, had warned him off with a snarl, brandishing his ruddy cane. Moe had nearly ended up in a jail cell. He forgot what happened after that. Didn't really matter.

“Wedding?” he asked, dully, at last.

Belle nodded. “Neal, my best friend and Thaddeus’ son. He married Emma Swan.”

“Oh,” he’d known about that, hadn’t he? Probably. Wouldn’t have cared, anyway. “Grats to them,” he muttered, without meaning it. “D’you want to come in?” He stood to the side of the door.

Belle looked into the messy, badly lit room. There were beer cans and pizza boxes covering the floor. The TV was on with the sound down low, showing some kind of sporting event. She couldn’t be here, couldn't let Thora see her grandfather like this. Belle clenched her hands into fists at her side. “No, I.. I don’t think so. But I wanted to know if you’d like to come to the park with me and… meet your granddaughter?”

Moe’s lip curled. The Beast’s daughter. “You still with him?” he asked gruffly.

Belle knew exactly who he meant. “Yes.” She held up her left hand. “I married him. We’re, uh, we’re pregnant again, actually.”

Moe made a choking sound that turned into another long cough, he doubled over a bit, straining to breathe. Belle patted his back.

“Are you okay, Dad?”

He waved her away. He was never okay. He hadn’t been okay since Colette died. Belle was a smart girl, smarter than he’d liked to think she was. She already knew the the answer, so he said nothing.

“Do you want to come downstairs with me?” She repeated, the tears already gathering at the corners of her eyes.

Moe just stared.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, temper flaring. What had she expected, really? “Fine.” She turned to go.

“Is he good to her?”

Moe’s gravelly tones made her stop as she reached the first stair down. She looked over her shoulder. “Sorry?”

He heaved a heavy sigh, hands trembling and sweaty. “Is he… is he a good father to your daughter?”

Belle raised her head with pride. “He’s an amazing father. She’s a very happy little girl.”

Moe nodded slowly, somewhere deep inside, something was falling into place. “And he’s good to you? Treats you right?”

“Yes,” Belle agreed. “He loves me. Very much.”

Moe nodded again. “Good.” He wanted to say so much more, tell her he’d been a shite father and that he was sorry. Tell her she’d always deserved so much more, so much better. But his mid morning meds were kicking in and he was sleepy and everything was starting to waver in and out through unshed tears. And the words just weren’t there. “Good,” he repeated, thickly.

And just like that, he’d retreated, shutting the door and sliding the lock audibly into place.

Belle leaned against the wall of the dingy stairwell for a long moment, taking deep, calming breaths. Then she made her way down the stairs and into the waiting arms of her husband. He held her fast until she felt more herself, again.

“Belle?” Thaddeus asked, once she’d pulled back from the embrace they shared.

Belle shook her head. “It’s done.” She glanced back at the dilapidated shop, her eyes misty and far away.  “He closed that door years ago and I was never going to be the one to open it.”

Thaddeus kissed the top of her head with a sigh. “Oh, sweetheart…”

“No, it’s okay. At least now I know.” She blinked away the last of her tears, a small smile taking their place - one she really meant, this time. “I have no regrets, Thaddeus.”

Thaddeus smiled back, warm suffusing him from within. “Neither do I.” He kissed her gently on the mouth, cupping her face with his free hand. “Home?”

She nodded. “Yes, let’s go home.”

 

 

**The End**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got an ask on tumblr about headcanons for the future of the Gold family. [So, I thought I'd leave it here, in case anyone was curious :-)](http://thescholarlystrumpet.tumblr.com/post/144861804948/i-know-you-didnt-make-a-tmi-post-or-anything-but)


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